Let Me
by iambeagle
Summary: A story about two friends, a three-day music festival, and stupid love. EPOV.
1. around 7PM

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

_I think I'm supposed to say that this story contains drug use. Nothing too hard. I only write what I know. So, only heroin & coke. Maybe I shouldn't joke about that._

_Also, quick note: ACL = Austin City Limits. It's an annual music festival in—you guessed it—Austin. A ton of bands perform on 8 stages over 3 days. It's really awesome, super fun, and extremely crowded. Hope you enjoy the story!_

* * *

_Thursday, October 1, 2009  
around 7PM_

"Why do you look like you're about to cry?" I ask Jasper when he walks into the apartment.

"Fuck you, Cullen," he spits, slamming the door. "You know I never cry."

I pull a face. "Okay," I say slowly. "You're the only human being who has the ability to not produce tears. Congratulations."

He flips me off, disappearing into his room before returning with a pipe, a lighter, and a small tin. He sits on the opposite end of the couch, grumbling as he packs the bowl with weed.

"Bad day?" I ask.

No response. Well, not unless you count the grunting sound he makes. Which I don't. He's clearly pissed, but I let him be. I have no idea what could have brought on this little mood swing, and I don't really care, either.

He flicks his lighter a few times until there's a flame. I fuck around on my laptop and play some music to fill the silence. I'm surprised, but pleased, when he hands me the pipe. He wouldn't let me smoke his good shit if he was actually pissed at me.

"I'm pissed at you," he manages to say with smoke-filled lungs.

I stand corrected. He _does_ let me smoke the good shit when he's mad at me. Good to know.

"What'd I do?"

He exhales, blowing smoke toward the ceiling, motioning for me to take a hit. Bringing the stem to my lips, I suck in a breath and light the bowl. I inhale deeply until my throat burns and my forefinger stings from the flame.

"Damn," I cough, eyes watering.

Smiling this goofy grin, he gives me a thumbs up. I cough again, and it's as I'm taking a sip of my beer that his grin morphs into a glare. He must have remembered he was pissed.

"Spit it out, Jas," I mutter, securing the beer bottle between my knees.

"I was at Garrett's earlier and we were talking about the music festival this weekend," he mumbles, scratching the back of his head.

I already know where this is going, but I act like I don't, just to be an asshole. I've known Jasper for the past nine years, since we were sophomores in high school, and pissing him off has become one of my hobbies. I'm really good at it, too.

"And?" I question, keeping my face blank.

"You sent Garrett your customized schedule for which bands you plan on seeing, but not me? Your roommate? Your best friend?"

"I emailed it to you, too," I remind him, scratching along my unshaven jaw. "It's not my fault you never check your email."

"It's not my fault I keep forgetting my password," he says, and he's dead serious.

Saving my breath, I refrain from making any obvious points, such as: _yes, it _is_ your fault you can't remember your password_.

I zone back in to what he's saying and manage to understand the gist of why he's upset: after comparing his lineup schedule to mine, we're only seeing three of the same bands this weekend. So when he's at the stage where Citizen Cope is playing, I'll be listening to Arctic Monkeys. And when he's jamming out to Mike Posner, I'll be entranced by Grizzly Bear.

"What's up with that, Cullen?" he asks, staring expectantly.

Refraining from being a complete dick, I try to find a nice way of telling him he has complete shit taste in music.

"Your music taste is offensive to me."

Well. I tried.

Jasper stares in disbelief. "What? You're the one planning on seeing the Yeah Yeah Yeahs instead Kings of Leon tomorrow night."

"Yeah. I know. Kings of Leon's recent music makes me cringe."

He pulls that face again, the one that suggests he's about to cry. I don't point it out this time, because I'm trying to be a good friend.

"How can you do this to me?" he questions quietly.

I'm in the middle of taking another hit from the pipe when he says this in the saddest voice ever, forcing me to cough out a laugh.

"Tell me, Jasper, what does this have to do with _you_?"

Standing from the couch, he steals the pipe from my hand, and glares down at me. "You know I love Kings of Leon, man. You know I do. You know I've stood by them since the beginning."

"You remember I'm the one who got you into them, right?"

"Bullshit," he says heatedly.

I laugh. "It's true, though."

"There's no way you listened to them first."

"I swear. Bella will remember," I say. "We were all in my car, it was... fuck, it was just before senior year started, in 2003. I had their album playing the night we got wasted and went bowling."

He looks skeptical. "How do you remember all of this?"

"It's a fond memory of mine. It was the night you puked in the bowling alley, remember?"

He picks up the remote from the coffee table and chucks it at me.

I curse, rubbing my shoulder. "Jasper, calm down. Shit. I don't even know why you're pissed. It's not like I'm asking you not to see those sellouts play tomorrow night. You can see whoever the fuck you want. I don't care."

He breathes through his nose. "_Sellouts_? Are you serious right now?"

"Yes."

"So, you're the one who supposedly got me into them, but now you hate them?"

"Their music isn't the same anymore. They lost their rawness. Their sound is too pop-y. I miss the days when I couldn't understand their lyrics. All of this_ your sex is on fire shit _doesn't do it for me anymore."

He covers his mouth with both hands, as if I just told him I murdered his mom or something.

"So, you're basically saying you aren't a fan of them anymore because they make money now," he accuses.

"Yeah," I play along, because he's annoying me and I want this conversation to end. "That's exactly it, Jasper. I'm bitter because they make money now."

He points at me and says, "It's shitty people like you who make this world a shitty place."

I'm about to tell him that I'd rather be a shitty person than have shitty taste in music, when Bella walks through the door.

"What's up, guys?" she asks, plopping down next to me on the couch. "Jasper, why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"Fuck you, too, Swan," he mutters, then storms to his room.

* * *

_Hi. Hello. Thanks so much for reading this new little story. It's um... new. And it's a story. I don't know what else to say._

_Quick thanks to Kim, Vic, Agu, Debbie, Kiara, Linae, and Kikki for lots of things. Like being my friend. And for reading over the first few chapters for me._

_Next update will be on Wednesday. AND I MEAN THAT. Because I have pre-written chapters. Which is cool!_


	2. around 9PM

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

_Thursday, October 1, 2009_  
_around 9PM_

"It's your turn to buy tonight, Cullen," Bella informs me.

"I know. You've only reminded me three times since we left the apartment," I say as I follow her through the dimly lit bar.

The place is a total dive. Seriously. Bella searched Yelp for dive bars in Austin, and Mugshots was number one on the list. It's sketchy, sure, and the patio out back faces an alley that consistently smells like piss. But they have cheap beer, a jukebox, a pool table in the back, and one of those old photo booths, which Bella is constantly trying to get me to go in. I usually say no, because there's no telling what perverted shit people do in there.

I have standards. Who knew?

We head toward the back, sliding into the booth we always sit in. I already know what I want to drink, but I grab a menu anyway. I glance up when I feel Bella's eyes on me.

"So, what was up with Jasper earlier?" she asks.

I frown, placing the sticky plastic menu behind the ketchup bottle and Tabasco sauce. "He's just being his usual douchey self."

"Aw, did you two have a fight?" she teases, bumping her shoe with mine under the table. "You look sad."

"I'm not sad. I'm here with you." I meet her eyes, shooting her a smirk. "And the Jasper thing isn't a big deal. He's just mad because I refuse to see Kings of Leon tomorrow night."

She brightens at this news. "So you're going to see the Yeah Yeah Yeahs with me, then?"

"Yeah… yeah yeah."

Her head tips back when she laughs. "That was lame."

"_You're_ lame," I mumble through my smile. "And you laughed. I've been waiting to use that joke on you all day."

The waitress comes over, and I don't know why she bothers asking what we want because it's always the same: two beers and two whiskey shots. Whatever's the cheapest. Especially since I'm buying tonight.

"And two glasses of water," Bella adds before the waitress walks away.

"Always with the water," I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Oh, shut up. You're the one who said your hangovers are significantly less brutal whenever you drink with me, because I make sure you stay hydrated."

I smile. I did say this.

"You're a good friend."

"Uh huh." Her lips pout and I can't help but grin at the face she pulls. I don't know what expression she's trying to make, but she ends up looking cute.

An hour or two pass, the alcohol making both of us chatty. Bella tries getting me to go over to the photo booth, but I refuse. Like always. We talk about which bands we're looking forward to seeing this weekend at the music festival. We mention Jasper and his mood swings, chalking it up to him being sad over his recent break-up with Alice.

After our second shot of whiskey, I notice Bella's laughing longer, a permanent smile on her face. I'm finding it hard to look away from her eyes; her mouth. It might be the whiskey, but I think it's just her.

I like the way her lips twist and purse when she's biting the inside of her cheek. And the way she fidgets with the stud in her ear when I look at her for too long. I don't seem to pick up on these things unless I'm drinking. It's weird, because I don't find myself noticing how attractive she is unless I'm drunk.

She says something, but I don't catch it. It's her laughter that pulls me out of my thoughts.

"You're in a good mood tonight," I comment, looking down as I spin the pint glass between my hands.

She gives me a sly smile, but says nothing as she slides out of the booth. I keep my eyes on her, watching as she walks over to the jukebox. Her shorts are pretty short and her legs are so fucking long, and I always tell her this. I do. It's like a thing. And she does it on purpose, too: with the short shorts and the smiles and the flirting.

She glances over in my direction with playfully narrowed eyes. I think she knows I'm looking, so I don't pull my gaze away. I blatantly stare at her ass until she turns and heads back toward the booth.

I scoot closer to the wall and pat the vinyl so she'll sit next to me. And she does. Just like I want her to.

"Are you excited to perform Sunday?" I ask, reaching across the table to slide her beer in front of her.

She hums. "I guess."

"You _guess_?" I scoff. "Don't act so nonchalant. Performing at ACL is a huge deal."

She takes a long gulp of beer. "I guess. But I mean, I only sing backup for Tyler, and play the cello for two songs. So it's not like it's anything. Really."

It's like she's trying to convince me she's not talented, and I'm not going to put up with that shit. I've known her almost as long as I've known Jasper, and she always does this; always tries to make things that are a big deal into nothing. And this isn't nothing.

"Bella," I say, but she keeps talking.

"And we're like, playing on the smallest stage before noon on Sunday. Only the shitty bands play before noon."

She messes with her bangs. I grab her hand and pull it away from her face so she'll sit still and listen.

"Hey. Don't do that," I insist, a serious edge to my tone.

"Don't do what?" she laughs. "Touch my bangs?"

"Don't act like what you're doing is nothing."

She realizes I'm being serious, and her smile fades. "All I was saying—"

"Well, stop. Because the shitty bands don't play at ACL _at all_, okay? You guys are really good. Trust me. I have impeccable taste in music."

"Oh, fuck off," she snorts, pulling her hand from mine so she can push my chest. "You only have good taste in music because of me."

"Not true."

"Whatever. The only way to find out is for me to move away for a year. Without my influence, you'd be subjected to Jasper's music."

"Don't say shit like that," I scold.

"Why? Because you'd miss me, or because Jasper's music makes you want to kill yourself?"

I didn't actually think about her not being around. That's never been something I've had to worry about. So, when I do think about it for a quick ten seconds, I don't like the idea. Not at all.

"Both," I decide.

Her gaze softens. "You'd miss me?"

"Don't look so surprised. I like having you around."

She nods at this, then pulls her eyes from mine. Her cheeks redden, and I have to call her out on it.

"Did I make you blush?" I tease, pinching her cheek. "You never blush."

"I'm not blushing," she argues, swatting at my hand before finishing her beer.

Her phone, which is between us on the table, lights up with a message. I cast a glance downward, not really thinking about it as I read the name that's displayed on her screen. I don't know who _Ben_ is, and it leaves me feeling unsettled.

She quickly grabs her phone, holding it at an angle to where I can't see what she's typing. It's weird. I don't know why, but it is.

I scan the bar for something to do until she slips her phone into her back pocket and is staring at me again.

"Who was that?" I casually ask.

She hesitates, but then exhales and says, "Okay, I didn't want to say anything, because it's not really a thing yet, but… I kind of met someone."

I don't really have a response. I blink, but that's it. It's when her face falls that I realize I'm just sitting here, so I overcompensate for my lack of reaction.

"Oh, awesome. Who is he? Where did you meet him? Is he going to your show on Sunday?" I ask quickly, then chug the remaining beer in my glass.

She kind of laughs, but it seems forced. "His name is Ben. Um, we met at that house party I went to last month with Jasper. You know, the one you bailed on."

"Right." I shake my head. "Wait, so you've been hanging out with him for a month?"

"Not like, everyday or whatever. We've hung out a few times."

"You never said anything."

"I'm saying something now," she points out. "It's still really casual. And I don't know if he's coming on Sunday. He's friends with Eric, the drummer, so maybe."

I nod, but I don't really care. "Ah. You like him, though?"

"I think so. He's cool."

"Cool," I echo, then laugh.

I'm not jealous. I'm really not. There's no reason for me to be. Bella and I aren't together. We never have been. Sure we flirt, and we had sex once, four months ago, on my birthday, when we were both really drunk. I say _once_, but it was multiple times in one night. And it was really fucking good. But then she got kind of weird, so we never talked about it.

And things went back to normal.

And now she's kind of seeing this other dude.

And I'm not jealous.

"I just figured I'd say something before he's hanging around, you know?" she asks, offering a small smile.

"Yeah."

She must sense my sudden lack of enthusiasm, because she changes the subject. It makes me feel like a dick.

"Hey, which headliner are you going to see Saturday night?"

I perk up at her question. This is something I can do. I can talk music with her, but I can't talk about some guy she likes.

"Um, the headliners are Ghostland Observatory and Dave Matthews Band," I say flatly. "Who do you think I'm going to see?"

"Good point. Dave Matthews Band is the worst."

I groan, shaking my head. "I think the fans are worse than the band, though. They egg them on, you know? Attending concerts and shit. Dave Matthews can't help if he produces simple, uninspiring music. It's the people who keep him going."

Bella rolls her eyes at my rant. "I have a bad feeling you're going to get into a fight with a DMB fan on Saturday."

"You just acronymed Dave Matthews Band. I thought you were better than that, Bella."

"Hey, at least I'm not like Jasper, listening to _If Only_ on repeat for two weeks straight."

I let it slide that Jasper wanted to wallow to Dave Matthews because the dude was heartbroken. I couldn't give him shit for his choice of music. But then a week turned into two weeks, and it's not fair to subject others to that. So I confronted him. And then he made that on-the-verge-of-crying face, so I dropped it. Then a day later, I deleted all the Dave Matthews music from his laptop and iPod.

He'll thank me someday.

"Yeah." My eyes travel to her chest, then back up to her face. "I guess you're a _little_ better than Jasper. You have tits."

"Fuck you," she laughs.

"You want to?" I quip, not bothering to hide my smug smile.

"You're an idiot."

"Except when it comes to music," I correct.

She makes a face. "Maybe. You're not really good for anything else."

I raise my eyebrows. "Not true. You know perfectly well that there's at least one other thing I'm good for."

Her head tilts to the side and she stares at me. It's probably the two whiskey shots and four beers we've consumed, but I have the urge to kiss her. Or maybe it's the fact that I know she's kind of seeing someone. Maybe I'm that type of asshole who wants what I can't have. But I don't think so. Maybe I just want her.

Seconds pass, and a new song begins playing, the opening guitar effect catching our attention. I know this song.

Bella kind of bounces in the booth, her entire face lighting up. "Hey, it's my song!"

"Imagine that. You put money in a jukebox, chose a song, and now it's playing."

"Don't be an asshole," she mutters, then licks her lips before she begins singing along.

I shake my head, grinning as she serenades me. She leans closer, grabbing onto my shoulder to give me a small shake.

"Come on, Edward. Sing with me. I know how much you love this Grizzly Bear song."

I do love it. It's my favorite. I think she chose this song on purpose, and now it's really fucking with my head.

Her smile is so wide. "Please?"

I feel embarrassed, but I try anyway. Because she wants me to.

"Now I remember why I'm the singer," she says, covering her ears with her hands.

I release an annoyed groan and drop my head against the table, hiding my face. "You're so rude," I say, voice muffled.

"No, no," she laughs, scooting closer, thigh pressed to mine. "I was teasing."

"Yeah, sure. All of this local fame is going to your head."

Her laugh is light and her mouth is by my ear and she's trying to get me to stop pouting, but she's just making me want her warm mouth on me.

"Edward, I know you're joking, but you're making me feel bad. Seriously."

My head lifts, and I run a hand through my hair a few times. I can feel the strands sticking straight up. Her eyes dart above my head and she breathes out a laugh as she smooths down my hair for me, face still so close to mine.

Her fingers run from my sideburns to my unshaven cheeks. "Are you going to shave soon?"

"I don't know," I murmur. "Should I?"

"No. I like it like this."

The corner of my mouth lifts. "You do?"

"Yes. And I don't think you're a bad singer," she tells me, leaning closer to kiss my cheek. "Sorry if I hurt your feelings."

My hand snakes around her back before she can move away. I feel her body shake as she chuckles, her breath fanning against my face. I tighten my grip on her, grinning smugly.

"Bella."

A beat passes and she's no longer smiling, but whispering, "What?"

"You know what," I whisper back.

She searches my face, like she's trying to figure me out.

"Hey," I murmur softly, leaning in just enough to give her a quick kiss.

Her mouth tastes like barley and her lips are so soft, so I kiss her again. And when she doesn't push me away, I kiss her for a third time, leaving my lips pressed to hers. My hand moves up her back, and my other hand slides up her thigh. Her skin is warm, but I can feel it prickling under my touch. Her hand tangles in my hair, and I groan at the sensation of her fingers running across my scalp. She kisses me back, clutching at my shirt, and I can hear the song ending in the background.

"Let's go back to my place," I mumble when our kiss slows.

"Edward... _fuck_." She wipes her mouth, and I smile at the redness on her skin caused by my beard. "What? Why are you smiling?"

"Beard burn." I kiss her chin. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

She sighs. "What do you want?" she asks, but it sounds like she's begging. "You never tell me what you want."

_I want to kiss you. I want to fuck you on the couch. In my bed. Then in the shower. Just like we did at the beginning of summer. I want to hear your moans and I want to feel your hair on my chest when you sleep_.

"I just want to hang out," I tell her, kissing her once more before we leave.

* * *

_Early update because I don't feel like waiting until Wednesday. So. I hope you enjoy my impatience? Thanks for reading. :)_

_If anyone wants to know, the song they listened to was 'Knife' by Grizzly Bear._

_I made changes to this chapter after all those nice people looked over it for me. So, any mistakes are mine. And Kim's. Because she read over it a second time for me._

_P.S. /waves to DMB fans._


	3. around 1AM

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

_Friday, October 2, 2009_  
_around 1AM_

When we're back in my room, and Bella is sitting cross-legged on the mattress on the floor, I can't take my eyes off her. I think she knows it, too.

She talks with her entire body, always animated with gesturing hands and flailing arms whenever she drinks. When she laughs at something I say, and lies back against the mattress, her shirt rises up and I want to lick the exposed skin of her hip.

The thought catches me off guard. Being this way with her isn't anything new. This is what we do. We laugh and tease and flirt. We hang out in my room alone. We drink and smoke together. Tonight shouldn't feel different, but it does, and it's fucking with me.

She doesn't mention the kiss in the bar, but neither do I. She doesn't bring up Ben again, either, and when his name flashes across the screen of her phone just after midnight, she doesn't answer the call.

"I get to pick the next album to listen to," she announces, scrolling through the music on my laptop.

"Sure, but I have to approve of it first."

"No way. You chose the last album and I didn't give you _my_ approval," she snarks, reaching for her beer.

"You didn't have to, because I chose something I knew you liked."

She reaches over and lightly pinches my cheek. "You're being nice tonight."

I scoff. "I'm always nice to you."

Bella rolls her eyes at this. I don't know what that means. I can't think of anyone else I'm nicer to than her, and she has to fucking know that. She's the only person I can tolerate. I don't say any of this, though. She goes back to her task of choosing music, but now I'm on edge.

"Let's smoke," I suggest, pulling open the top drawer in my dresser.

"I don't know," she muses, eyes focused on the screen. "I have to be up kind of early. I should head out soon."

"It's after one in the morning."

"Exactly."

"You should just stay here."

Her eyes snap to mine, and I don't feel like trying to figure out what her expression means, so I grab my shitty glass pipe, bag of weed, and lighter. I sit next to her on the mattress and pack a bowl just as _Sex On Fire_ begins playing.

"Get out," I mutter, trying to keep a straight face.

"Too soon?" she jokes, switching to a song by The xx.

I shoot her a playful glare and move the laptop to the floor, then hand her the pipe and lighter.

"Ladies first," I insist.

She licks her lips before a laugh escapes. "Such a gentleman. Light it for me?" she requests.

"You can do it, Swan."

She gives me a look, bringing the pipe to her lips. Her eyes flick to mine, all wide and waiting. I shake my head, suppressing a smile. I don't actually mind. I like when we're smoking with a group of our friends and she asks me to light the bowl for her.

I flick the lighter, producing a flame that nearly vanishes when she breathes in. The weed burns, and I watch the concentration on her face as she inhales, holds the smoke in her lungs, then exhales.

I do the same, but I take two hits, coughing as I breathe out. I check the bowl and offer her another hit. Her smile grows as she moves from her spot. I try not to react as she straddles me, thighs on either side of my waist. I suppress a groan and scoot back a little so we're not sitting on the edge of the mattress.

I want her this way. I want to fuck her like this. I wonder if she'll let me.

"Do you want me to light it for you again?" I ask slowly.

Her nod is as lazy as her smile.

Bringing the pipe to her mouth, I cover the carb with my thumb so she doesn't have to do anything but sit here, on my lap. I light the bowl, and she sucks in. I remove my thumb—she inhales deeper. Coughs. Grins. I want to kiss her smile.

I place the pipe on the floor, and offer her my beer. She takes a sip and then I'm moving us so I'm sitting up against the wall. My hands are on her back, under her shirt, and my index fingers begin to move slowly, tracing invisible letters along her skin. It takes me a second to realize I'm spelling out her name.

"Hey. Try to guess what I'm spelling."

She shakes her head, confused. "What?"

"I'm going to spell out a word on your back, and you're supposed to guess what it is."

She laughs through her nose, but agrees to play along. I don't spell anything, though. I just trace random letters along her back. I like watching her face, so focused on what I'm doing. My fingers cause a shiver to run up her spine, and I like that, too.

"I suck at this," she complains. "I don't know what you're spelling."

"Bella. You didn't even try."

"Was it _bread_?" she guesses.

"What the fuck?" I laugh. "Why would I spell that?"

"I don't know! It felt like you wrote _B_, _R_, and _D_."

I grin. "Nope."

"Whatever. I give up."

"Okay. I wasn't actually spelling anything," I admit.

Her nose scrunches and she pushes against my shoulder, shaking her head. "What was the point of that?"

"What's the point of anything we do?" I challenge.

She sighs loudly. "Oh, don't get all deep on me right now."

"You don't want to talk about the meaning of life?" I tease.

"No."

"Then what do you want to do?"

Her smile is easy as she finishes the beer, leaning over slightly to place it on the floor.

"Hey," I begin.

Her eyes meet mine. "Yeah?"

"Remember my birthday?"

She frowns, a little crease between her brows. "What about it?"

"Do you ever think about that time we fucked?"

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"When?" I push.

"What?" she asks, slowly blinking. "What do you mean _when_?"

My hands move up and down her back, deliberately slow. "Do you think about it when you're touching yourself?"

"God, Edward," she laughs, burying her face against my chest. She thinks I'm joking, but I'm not. I want to know.

"I think about it," I tell her. "_A lot_."

"Like when you're touching _yourself_?" she asks, mocking me.

"Yeah," I admit, swallowing.

I can feel her breath against my neck before she sits up. I don't want her to move away completely, so I place my hands on her waist, anchoring her to me.

Her words are slightly slurred as she questions, "Why are you thinking about this?"

I laugh through my nose. "Because you're sitting on my lap. How could I not be thinking about it?"

We stare at one another. Her chest rises and falls, and I know she can feel how hard I am beneath her. And really, how could I not be thinking about the time we had sex?

The music playing from my laptop abruptly ends before the song is over. I look past her shoulder, realizing it ran out of battery. The power cord is across the room, but I decide to let it be. I don't want to move. And when my eyes are back on Bella's face, seeing the way she's staring at me, there's definitely no way I'm moving.

It's too silent without music playing, so I say her name. Her gaze bounces between my eyes and my lips, so I lean forward and kiss her. She lets me, kissing me harder. My mouth opens and her tongue moves against mine, the little sound she makes egging me on. Her hands grip the back of my neck, and _my_ hands slide up under her shirt, palming her tits.

"Let me fuck you," I whisper into her mouth.

"Edward…"

I stop. I pull my hands away from her chest. I search her face.

"You don't want to?"

"I mean, I want to. I do. But…" She sighs, dropping her head against my shoulder. Maybe her uncertainty has to do with the guy she's kind of seeing. I don't even want to think his name. I don't want _her_ to think his name. That's why I don't ask her why she's stopping. Because then she'll think about him. I don't know if they've slept together yet, and I'm trying so fucking hard to keep from asking. Maybe it should matter. Maybe it shouldn't.

We sit like this for a few minutes, her forehead on my shoulder and my mouth near her ear. I don't want to have to convince her to sleep with me. I just want her to want me as much as I do her.

A few minutes pass. With closed eyes, my head feels both heavy and light, the weed making my limbs lazy. Bella's breathing slows and I think maybe she's fallen asleep on me. But then she presses open-mouthed kisses to the space below my ear and rolls her hips against me. I groan at the sensation of her lips on my skin and the pressure she's creating against my dick.

I have to still her hips, because it's already too good. We discard our clothes and she's giggling when my mouth is on her stomach. Her muscles tense and my beard leaves her skin red, but I love the way it looks. She's so pale, but so perfect, and I feel like I should tell her these things, but I don't.

When she lies back against the mattress, I try not to stare at her for too long. My hands trail from her calves to her thighs, and I'm opening her legs and pressing my mouth to her. I lick and suck and groan, and she makes these noises that I've never heard before, but want to hear all the time.

I think maybe I should tell her that, too.

She squirms and I slide my fingers inside her and her ass is lifting off the mattress and I'm pushing her hips down with my other hand. Her fingers tangle in my hair and I think she's saying my name. The way she's panting it, breathing it, sounds so fucking good. My mouth stays on her until she's no longer writhing, and then I kiss my way up her stomach.

"Why didn't we have sex again after that night?" I ask, when I'm hovering over her. It just seems like something I should know.

"Because you didn't try."

"You really shouldn't have said that," I tell her, because now I'm going to try all the time.

I grip my dick and guide myself inside her, moaning into her mouth. It's already too good and I want to stop, but I don't. I want to make it last, but I can't.

"You feel so good," I grunt, placing my mouth on her tit.

Her legs wrap around my hips, and she's telling me things, like _faster_ and _fuck me_.

So I do.

I fuck her until I can't breathe; until the only thing I can hear are her moans and my gasps. Until she's telling me over and over again how she likes the way I feel inside of her. And hearing her say that only makes me move faster.

I want to feel this with her on top, but I can't find it in me to stop. My thrusts are quick and her heels are digging into my ass. I just want this all the time, and it's so much better than on my birthday but I don't know why.

I tell her she feels so good, and she says that she knows, that she likes the way I fuck her. Her words are my undoing. I let go and groan against her chest, cursing as I come.

Our breathing is the loudest noise in the room as we try to catch it. I kiss her shoulder as I pull out, and then she disappears into the bathroom. I leave the bed to turn off the light before sliding under my blanket to wait for her.

I'm on the verge of falling asleep when I hear her come back into the room. I keep my eyes shut and wait to feel her crawl into bed, but seconds pass and it's too silent.

"What are you doing?" I ask, opening one eye.

She's still naked, standing in the middle of my room, holding her clothes. She looks like she's going to leave, and I don't know why she thinks she should. It's the most ridiculous thing to me right now.

"I have to wake up early."

I yawn. "So? Set an alarm."

There's hesitation in her voice when she says, "I don't want to wake you up when I leave."

I sit up, rubbing my eyes.

"Bella. Get over here."

"Is that cool? You sure?"

I laugh and leave the mattress. _Of course I'm fucking sure_. She looks confused as I stand in front of her. Before she can ask what I'm doing, I grip her hips and pick her up, hands on her ass as she wraps her legs around my waist. I walk us back to my bed and carefully place her onto the mattress, pulling the blanket over our bodies.

I lie on top of her, burying my face between her neck and shoulder. Her body shakes as she laughs beneath me.

The smile is evident in her voice as she whispers, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want you to stay."

* * *

_Y'all make me happy. Thanks so, so much for reading._

_Kim looked over this a second time for me. She's cool sometimes, even though she lies and tells people on Twitter that I write fic for the High School Musical fandom._

_Next update will be sometime this weekend!_


	4. around 8AM

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

_Friday, October 2, 2009_  
_around 8AM**  
**_

The sound of an alarm forces me awake. I don't know what time it is, but if the way my head is feeling is any indication, it's _not_ time to wake up.

With a pounding head and a dry mouth, I roll over with a groan and blink my eyes open. I shouldn't be surprised or confused to see Bella lying next to me, topless, but for a split second, I am.

My thoughts travel back to earlier this morning: it started with cheap beer and weed, and ended with Bella lying underneath me, panting my name. My dick hardens as I think about the way she felt and the sounds I made her make.

She stirs next to me, but her eyes stay closed. Her mouth is slightly parted and she's breathing deep, not the least bit disturbed by the alarm that's sounding from her phone.

I take the opportunity to stare at her face, noticing things I haven't before. Like that she has freckles on her nose, and a small, faint scar that's just below her right eyebrow. I rub my thumb over the mark, wondering how it got there. Her lids move, but her eyes stay closed. I pull my hand away from her face in case she wakes up and freaks the fuck out.

"Bella," I say, voice gritty. When she doesn't respond, I give her shoulder a small shake. I'm about to turn the alarm off myself because I can't stand it anymore, when she slowly opens her eyes.

She looks disoriented for a second, so I offer her a sleepy smile. I'm not expecting there to be any morning-after awkwardness, but I'm still not sure how to act.

I can't help but stare at her tits as she sits up to grab her phone, ending the alarm.

"My head. _Fuck_," she breathes, rubbing her temple as she lies back down.

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. "You want water?"

"That'd be awesome," she mumbles.

I lie there for a minute, blinking away the colors and patterns that appeared from rubbing my eyes.

"Edward," she whines, poking my shoulder. "I'd go get water myself, but Jasper's probably out there."

"Why does that matter?" I question.

She hesitates. "It doesn't matter, really. I just thought… I don't know. Do we want people to know we had sex? Will that make things weird?"

"Wait… we had _sex_?" I ask, feigning shock.

"You're seriously a moron," she says flatly.

"I'm _joking_," I stress, tapping her nose. "You have freckles."

"And an extremely dry mouth," she adds, swatting at my hand. "Please, go get me water before I die from dehydration."

"So dramatic," I laugh, rolling out of bed.

Picking up a pair of boxers from the floor, I pull them on. I scratch my head as I walk through the living room, quietly laughing when I see Jasper passed out face first on the couch. The television is still on, and he's snoring, still wearing his clothes and shoes.

I grab a plastic cup from the cabinet, peering into it to make sure it's clean, then stick my finger under the running tap until the water is cold. I drink half the glass, then fill it again.

When I walk into the room, I shut the door behind me. Bella holds the blanket against her chest as sits up, reaching out for the cup.

"Thanks."

"You owe me," I joke, taking off my boxers before sliding back into bed. "Fuck, I'm tired. Why did we stay up so late?"

"It was your idea," she accuses. "Sorry I woke you so early."

"It's okay," I yawn, pulling down the blanket to grab her tit. "You can make it up to me."

I say this, smug and without expectation. I don't assume she'll pull the blanket away from our bodies and straddle me, but she does.

She grinds against me and we move like that for a few minutes, teasing and kissing and rubbing, until I can't take it; until I need more.

I grab her hips, lifting her up. With an exhale, I lock my gaze with hers as she slides down onto me. And I'll never get used to the feeling of being inside of her.

She's still for a minute, just sitting on me, and I'm fucking dying. My hands are on her waist, and I give her a gentle squeeze.

"Bella," I breathe out. "I need you to move."

Her eyes are dark when she smiles. She's doing it on purpose. Fucking teasing me.

And then slowly, she begins rolling her hips. It's so lazy and she's good like this, _so fucking good like this_. I start to close my eyes, then stop myself. I need to watch her.

I palm her tits, and she makes this sound, between a moan and a laugh. I want to move with her, but I can't. I just lie here, hands roaming all over her body as I watch her fuck me. And the way she moves is perfect. Her tits are bouncing and her mouth is open, but she's not saying anything. Not like last night. She's just moaning and breathing hard, and maybe that sound is better than her telling me to fuck her.

"_Fuck_, Bella," I grit out.

My hands glide down her back, along her spine, until they curve around her hips. The tips of my fingers dig into her skin as I grip her waist, rocking her against me because I need it faster.

"I wanna see you touch yourself."

She brings a hand between us, and the sight of her rubbing her clit pushes me over the edge; the sound she makes causes my balls to tighten and my eyes to close. It's too much. _She's_ too much.

I swear harshly, gripping her ass and holding her against me as I come.

"Did you…?" I ask, once I catch my breath.

She falls forward, collapsing against my chest, and mumbles _no_. My ego takes a hit, but I try not to let it show. So, when she moves away and lies beside me, I slip a hand between her thighs. My fingers don't stop moving, not until _her_ fingers dig into my shoulder and her breathing is ragged.

She bucks against my hand as she loses control; loses her air. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and this time I don't have to ask her if she came.

I kiss along her chin and jaw, then bury my face between her shoulder and neck. The only thing I'm focused on now is going back to sleep.

"Hey, can I shower here?" she asks quietly, fingers playing with my hair.

I try to hide my disappointment about her not wanting to sleep.

"I thought you didn't want Jasper to know you were here or whatever."

"Yeah, but now I don't have time to go home and shower, so."

"Sure. Go ahead," I grumble. "It's gross in there. Be careful."

Her laugh sounds sleepy, and I wonder if I could convince her to stay in bed. Before I can try, she presses a quick kiss to my lips, then leaves the mattress.

I doze off, and don't wake up until she's lying beside me again.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," I mumble, opening my eyes. She's wearing the clothes she wore last night. Her hair is wet and she's so pretty right now, and I don't think she knows.

"What?" she whispers quietly, like she's expecting me to tell her a secret.

I yawn for what feels like a good ten seconds. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to nine."

"Let's go back to sleep," I suggest, grabbing her waist and pulling her against me, so her back is against my chest. Her skin feels so warm compared to mine.

"I didn't peg you as a spooner, Cullen," she teases.

I shush her. "No talking. More sleeping."

"I can't go back to sleep," she says, shaking with a quiet laugh. "I have to leave in a few minutes."

Her wet hair is cold on my skin, but I don't care. I breathe her in, resting my hand on her stomach.

"You smell like me," I mumble, closing my eyes.

"That's funny, because I smelled like you before I showered, too," she points out.

Her words go straight to my dick as I remember exactly _why_ she smelled like me. I groan out a laugh, then whisper the words _I like that_ against the back of her neck.

"What do you like?" she asks, shuddering.

"You smelling like me."

She doesn't respond straight away, then says, "Your bathroom really _is_ disgusting."

I laugh too loud at this. "I warned you."

"That you did."

We lie in silence for a few minutes. I'm trying to decide whether I should smoke a bowl or go back to sleep, when she moves out of my arms to lie on her back.

"Hey," she starts, then pauses. "So I was thinking… maybe we shouldn't make fun of Jasper anymore."

I open my eyes at her ridiculous suggestion. "What?"

"So, when I was walking to the bathroom, I saw him sleeping on the couch and noticed he had one of Alice's shirts clutched in his arms."

"Jesus."

"I know. That's why I feel kinda bad for the dude," she muses. "He gets shitfaced every night because he doesn't want to think about her, but that's exactly what he ends up doing."

"Are you sure we can't make fun of him? He calls her every _other_ night and leaves voicemails of him singing Nsync songs," I deadpan. "I can't _not_ make fun of a person who does that."

"But he's heartbroken!" she tries defending, shoving my shoulder. "Give him a break."

"Heartbroken? No. Upset that he no longer has someone to fuck on a regular basis? Yes."

She stares at me for a long second. "You're such a guy."

"Uh… yeah?" I laugh. "I thought that was already established."

She moves to sit up, but I keep her in place.

"What, are you mad?" I ask, searching her face.

She sighs. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because you look mad, sound mad, and you're leaving," I list off.

"Why do you think I'm awake so early? I don't _want_ to leave, but I have to."

"Where are you going?" I ask, sliding my fingers under the hem of her shirt and resting my palm on her warm skin.

"I'm going to eat breakfast with the band. We have to go over some stuff before Sunday. And then we're all going to Angela's place before we head to the festival, to drink and stuff. Remember?"

"So, these aren't plans you can cancel to sleep a little longer?"

"Nope."

I kiss her chin. "Okay. Fine. You can go. But only if you promise you're not mad."

She squirms under my touch, fighting a laugh as my fingers move across her stomach. She finally smiles, so I still my hand.

"I'm not mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she tells me, fingers running over my beard. "Are you going to sleep all day?"

"That's an intriguing idea. But no. I'm heading to Zilker around noon. There's a band I want to see that plays at one-thirty."

She shakes her head at this, pulling a face. "See? I _told_ you."

I frown. "Told me what?"

"All the good bands play _after_ noon."

"Don't even start with that," I scold.

"Fine, fine." She sighs, eyes darting to my mouth. "Okay. I really do have to go now."

I tighten my grip on her waist. "Then go."

She giggles, and it's the best sound. "_Edward_."

"_Bella_," I mock. "What?"

She kisses me. Once, twice, then pulls away just as I'm getting into it.

"I'll see you later?" she asks, and I loosen my hold on her.

"You better."

She stands from the mattress and bends over to slip her shoes on. She asks me something, but she should know better than to try to have a conversation with me while bending over and wearing those shorts.

"What?" I ask when she stands straight.

"Do you know if you're going to Angela's or not?"

"I might stop by, yeah."

"You should."

I grin. "What, you want me there?"

"Shut up. You know I do," she says, looking away. "Besides, I think Garrett and Jasper are going, too, so maybe you three can ride together. Parking is going to be shitty, so hopefully Angela will let us leave our cars at her place, since it's in walking distance of Zilker."

"Okay, yeah. I'll be there. But only because you want me there."

"Okay."

Her smile is the last thing I see before I fall asleep.

* * *

_Edward had so much trouble staying awake in this chapter, I was starting to think I'd given the poor dude narcolepsy. Oops.  
_

_Thanks for reading! Will update on Tuesday._

_Awkward hugs for the ladies of Rob Attack for featuring this story on their blog!_

_Kim and Vic read this chapter and had less-than-shitty things to say about it, so that's cool!_


	5. around noon

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

_Friday, October 2, 2009  
around noon_**  
**

I don't wake up until Jasper's banging on my door, yelling at me to _get the fuck out of bed, dick_.

I grab my phone from beside my pillow and check the time.

_11:47_  
_  
_I swipe my thumb across the screen to unlock the phone, and read a text Bella sent about thirty minutes ago.

**Duuude, where are you?**

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I rack my brain, trying to figure out what she's talking about.

_Fuck_.

I jump out of bed and head straight for the bathroom. Jasper's standing there, leaning over the sink and inspecting his face in the mirror. He's wearing a sleeveless neon green shirt that's a size too small, a pair of jean cutoffs, cowboy boots, and a loosely tied bandana around his neck.

"Since when did you join the Village People?" I ask, rubbing my eyes. "Are you about to bust out with YMC-gay?"

He ignores me. "Do you think Alice broke up with me because I'm not physically capable of growing a beard?" he asks, and I don't have it in me to indulge him in this conversation.

"You're better off without her," I insist, and I kind of mean it.

Pulling away from the mirror, he releases a long, drawn out sigh. "I'm better off dead."

"Enough with the emo shit," I say, stepping past him. "Get out. I gotta piss."

"Garrett's gonna be here in twenty," he informs me, sliding on a pair of plastic sunglasses before leaving the bathroom.

Ignoring the fact that I overslept, my time management skills are unparalleled. Over the next fifteen minutes I manage to take a shower, dress myself without looking like a gay cowboy, and still have a few minutes to spare to eat the leftover pizza in the fridge.

My phone vibrates with a text from Garrett, saying he's waiting in the parking lot. It dawns on me I forgot to text Bella back, so I send her a quick reply, telling her I'm on my way to Angela's.

Grabbing my keys, wallet, sunglasses, and wristband for ACL, I call out to Jasper, telling him lock up and that I'll be waiting in the car.

"Are you totally stoked?" Garrett asks excitedly when I climb into the passenger seat.

"Totes stoked," I mock.

"Fuck off," he laughs. "Are you working at the station this weekend?"

I nod. "Yeah. They couldn't find anyone to cover for me. No one wants to work my shift."

"That's shitty. So, you plan on drinking and smoking all day at ACL, then going to work at one in the morning?"

"Basically. I'll have a chance to sober up, though. The headliners usually play until ten o'clock, so I'll probably get a nap in before heading to work. Besides, ACL only happens once a year. If I lose a little sleep, it's worth it."

Garrett nods in agreement. "Dude, where's Jasper? It's almost twelve thirty. You think we should just head straight to the festival and skip Angela's?"

"Uh…" I think about this for a second. If we head straight to the festival, I'll make it in time to see Dr. Dog play at one thirty. But I told Bella I'd stop by Angela's. And I don't want to be a dick. "Let's stop by for like, thirty minutes."

"Okay. I want to smoke before we get to Zilker, anyway." Jasper comes into view, and Garrett's first reaction is, "What the fuck is he wearing?"

I laugh while Garrett hits the lock button. We stare at Jasper as he tries opening the door. His eyes cut to us when he finds it's locked.

"Unlock the door," he says, pulling the handle ten times too many. "What the fuck, man?"

Garrett rolls down his window a bit and says, "Take off the fanny pack and I'll let you in the car."

"I already told you guys, it's not a fucking fanny pack!" Jasper yells in exasperation. "It's three times the size of a fanny pack, and it's secured across my chest and shoulder, not my waist!"

He's clearly had to defend this glorified fanny pack a few times in his life.

"So what you're saying is, it's a purse," Garrett states.

"No!"

"You're being too hard on him," I finally say, thinking back to the conversation Bella and I had this morning. "Who are you to say he can't fanny pack it up?"

"Really, Cullen?" Garrett asks, looking shocked. "We let him get away with a fanny pack, and then what? Murder?"

"I think that's taking it a bit far…" My argument trails off as Jasper walks around the front of the car, kicking the bumper. "We need to get going. Just let him in and you'll get greens all day, okay?"

The promise of Garrett getting the first hit each time we smoke works, because he unlocks the doors and lets Jasper in.

Traffic near Zilker is pretty bad, turning what would be a five minute drive into twenty. When we pull into Angela's neighborhood, there are cars lined along both sides of the road. We drive around until we find a place to park, which is a few blocks over from where she lives.

When we walk up to the house, there are a few guys standing in the front yard, drinking beer. Jasper opens the front door without knocking—I guess wearing a fanny pack can give a person that type of confidence. We walk past the living room, where there's a group of people surrounding a bong that has to be at least half my height.

"So… I'll be in there," Garrett tells us before disappearing.

Jasper and I make our way into the kitchen, where we find Angela tossing empty beer bottles into the recycling bin.

She squeals when she sees me. "Cullen!" Her eyes are bloodshot, her grin is goofy, and she's never been this excited to see me before. So, naturally, I assume she's baked.

"Hey, Ange."

"You need to come around more, you punk," she scolds, sliding her arms around my waist in a side hug.

Draping an arm over her shoulder, I tug on one of her braids. "I saw you like, two weeks ago."

"It's been more like a month. Are we not cool enough for you?" she scoffs. "You only ever hang out with Bella... and this dude, who's dressed like a gay cowboy."

I laugh a little too hard at this, and she pulls away to hug Jasper, who doesn't even try to defend what he's wearing.

"Where's Alice?" she asks, looking expectant.

Jasper and I exchange a glance. I can tell he's working hard to keep a neutral expression. I feel for the dude, so I attempt to cover for him.

"Uh, Alice is, um… not here."

Okay, so it was a pretty lame attempt.

"Clearly," Angela snorts. "No, seriously. Is she meeting you guys at the festival later?"

When Jasper sighs, it's the longest, loudest, saddest sound I've ever heard him make. If I had a buzz, he would have killed it with that sigh.

"Alice broke up with me," he admits, looking at the floor.

"Oh, shit!" Angela exclaims, covering her mouth. "Wait. I think I already knew that. I don't even know why I asked. Fuck. Sorry."

"It's all good. It's not like I really care, you know?" He tries sounding nonchalant, but fails miserably.

Angela and I are too silent. He's a really bad liar.

"You'll be okay," I tell him, clapping him on the back. Maybe I'm a bad liar, too.

"I'm fine, man. It's whatever. People break up. People move on. Shit happens, right? It's like… life."

"Right. It's like… life," I repeat, shaking my head as I chuckle. "That's really deep, Jasper."

"Um… does anyone want a beer?" Angela offers, standing in front of the open fridge. "Because I feel really shitty now for bringing Alice up. I blame it on the bud I smoked with Ben and Bella. It ruined my sense of… sensitivity?"

She accidentally snorts when she laughs, which makes Jasper laugh in return. And I'm just standing here like a fucking idiot, not laughing or doing anything really, because _of course the guy Bella is kind of seeing is here_. And they were smoking together. I can't help but think about what Bella and I did last night after _we_ smoked. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little pissed right now. And that's shitty, because I know I have no right to be.

I swallow, trying not to sound like anything other than curious when I ask, "Where's Bella, anyway?"

Angela pulls out a few Stellas, securing one in the crook of her elbow. "I think they went to the store to get more beer. We're running low."

My eyebrows raise. "They?"

"Bella and Ben."

"Right. Who's Ben?" I casually ask.

"Ben is friends with Eric. Don't worry. He's chill," she says, handing me a beer.

"Yeah, the dude is fly," Jasper adds, grabbing the bottle opener from the counter.

"_Fly_? Really, Jasper?" I ask, slightly annoyed. It pisses me off even more knowing that Jasper likes him, too.

"What?" He shrugs, handing me the opener.

"No one even uses that word anymore."

"I'm trying to bring it back," he defends.

"Just like you're trying to bring jorts back in style?" I laugh, swigging my beer.

"What are jorts?" Angela asks.

"Jean shorts," I say flatly, nodding to Jasper's lower half. "Jorts."

Angela cracks up at this, literally slapping her knee. Eric walks in through the back door, nodding in my direction. He starts talking to Angela about the barbecue pit, and the two of them disappear to the backyard.

Jasper heads back toward the living room to find Garrett, and I follow behind him, keeping an eye out for Bella. It's not that I care if she's with someone else, but it's kind of fucking rude for her to leave without even texting me. She's the reason I came here. I could be standing in the crowd at ACL, waiting for Dr. Dog to play. Instead I'm standing in someone's house, listening to people who are blitzed out argue over global warming.

Garrett's grin is lazy as he asks the owner of the giant bong if we can smoke, too. Jasper's eyes widen with excitement as he sets his beer down and pulls a lighter from his pocket. But I don't feel like smoking yet. I chug my beer instead. And then start drinking Jasper's.

Some chick who's wearing a tie-dye shirt that says _Dave Matthews Band_ comes over to me, and strikes up a conversation. She tells me her name, but I don't bother to remember it. She smiles, and I pull out my phone, checking to see if I have any new texts. I don't have it in me to tell her that I don't really want to talk right now. She listens to Dave Matthews; her life is hard enough as it is.

"So, I just really wanted bangs," the chick says. "So, I went for it."

Naturally, my eyes flick to her bangs. "Yeah. Bangs are… I mean, they're…" My mind goes blank. I literally can't think of anything to say.

"They're _bangin_'?" she offers, and her mouth opens so wide when she laughs, I can see her molars. "Get it? _Bangin_' because they're bangs."

I don't know whether or not she's joking. She's not smiling or laughing anymore, just staring expectantly for me to agree with her. Like what she said is the most mind blowing thing that's ever been uttered. Jasper stares at me like that a lot. Especially after he's smoked.

I suddenly have the bright idea to hook her up with Jasper. They both like Dave Matthews, which is enough to ensure that they're practically soul mates.

"Hey, have you met my friend Jasper?" I ask, nodding across the room. "He's the dude in the neon green shirt."

We both stare in his direction. He shoves a handful of Doritos in his mouth, chews, then uses his shirt to wipe off the cheese dust from around his mouth.

"I don't think I've met him, no."

I make the quick decision to talk him up so she'll leave me alone. I rack my brain, trying to come up with something that will make him more appealing to her.

"He's Twitter famous," I say matter of factly. "He has three hundred followers."

"Only three hundred?" she asks, frowning. "Did he recently join or something?"

I blink. "Thousand," I correct. "Three hundred _thousand_. He turns those one hundred and forty characters into pure magic and wit."

"Oh my god. There's something so sexy about people who are Twitter famous," she coos.

"You should go talk to him," I say enthusiastically.

She smiles, messes with her hair, then walks off.

I take the opportunity to head back into the kitchen to grab another beer, where I find Bella sitting on the counter. I'm not sure how I didn't see her walk in, and it makes me wonder if she actually went to the store. She dips a tortilla chip into a bowl of salsa and laughs at something Angela's saying. But when she looks over and catches me standing in the doorway, her smile falters.

"Hey, Ange. Jasper's pissing in the bushes out front," I lie so she'll give Bella and me a minute alone.

"Not _again_. For fuck's sake," Angela mutters, storming past me.

Bella eyes me as I walk over, and I stand in front of her knees. She's wearing a short dress with thin straps, and boots. Her hair is pulled back, showing off her bare shoulders. They're slightly burned from the sun. I didn't notice that this morning.

I place my empty beer bottle next to her, then shove a hand through my hair before sliding it into the pocket of my jeans. She doesn't speak first, forcing _me_ to.

"Here you are." Her dress is low-cut and my eyes dart to her tits.

"Here I am," she deadpans.

The corner of my mouth lifts and I meet her eyes. "I've been looking for you."

"I've been here," she says hesitantly.

"You weren't here when I first arrived, though. You went to the store with Ben."

"We needed beer," she mumbles, looking down at her lap. "Besides, that took all of ten minutes."

"Buying beer requires two people?" I ask flatly.

She shrugs, not bothering to answer, so I drop it. And maybe I don't deserve an answer. Maybe she doesn't owe me an explanation.

I step closer, so her knees are pressing against my stomach. I squeeze her thigh, just above her knee, trying to ease whatever tension there is between us. When she finally laughs, it's strained. She sets her beer next to mine and pushes at my shoulder so I'll step back.

"Well, I'm glad you finally decided to show up," she mutters.

"Sorry. I overslept."

"I figured," she snorts, pulling the elastic band out of her hair. It falls in waves over her shoulders. "I should've figured you'd be late."

"So _that's_ why you're giving me the cold shoulder," I accuse. "How can I be late when I never gave you a time?"

She pulls her hair over one shoulder as she lets out a breath. "Okay, fair enough. But you _did_ say you were heading to Zilker around twelve, and it's almost one. So, naturally I assumed you'd be here before noon."

"Why does it matter? I'm here now."

"I never said it mattered," she shoots back.

"You're acting like it does," I counter.

"Well, I just think it's inconsiderate. I texted you."

"And I texted you back."

"Almost an hour later," she stresses.

We stay silent as a few people walk through the kitchen and out the back door. I lock my jaw, deciding against pointing out that she was off with Ben before I got here.

"Jesus, Bella. What's your deal?" I ask when we're alone again.

She laughs, but I can't detect any humor. "I don't have a deal."

"You're fucking acting like it."

"Well, why can't _you_ act like you have a deal sometimes?"

I blink. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"I don't know," she utters. "Forget it."

She moves to slide off the counter, but I cover her knee with my hand, keeping her in place.

"Are you seriously mad at me?" She holds my gaze, but doesn't answer. I part her knees and stand between her thighs, sliding a hand up her leg. "I thought we had fun last night."

She licks her lips, squirming a bit on the counter. Her chest heaves with each breath, and I kind of love that my touch can affect her like this.

"We did have fun," she finally admits.

My fingers press into her skin as I squeeze her leg. "What about this morning?"

"Yeah, we had fun," she repeats, cheeks slightly burning.

"So?" I whisper.

"So what?"

"Why are you acting like this?" I ask softly.

"I'm not acting like anything," she sighs. "I wanted to hang out with you before the festival, but you didn't show up. And I didn't think you were going to at all. So, sorry if that made me a little annoyed, okay?"

"I wanted to hang out, too," I admit. "Does it make you feel any better to know that I'm skipping Dr. Dog right now to be here with you?"

"No," she says, trying to fight a smile. "I doubt you would have made it on time to see them, even if you weren't here right now."

"Whatever. This has to count for something," I insist, chuckling.

She shrugs, and I search her face. I smirk at her until her lips curve into a smile. I stare at her mouth, and I like that I know what it tastes like. I lean forward a bit, but she moves her head to the side before my mouth can touch hers.

"Ouch," I mumble against the crook of her neck. I plant a small kiss below her chin, then pull back. "Let me kiss you."

"Edward…"

"You don't want me to?"

Her face softens for a second. "I don't think that'd be a good idea right now," she tells me quietly.

"Is this because Ben's here?" I accuse, removing my hand from her thigh.

"I don't know. Is _this_," she gestures between us, "because Ben's here?"

I fall silent, unsure of how to answer her; unsure of what she's really asking.

Before either of us says another word, Jasper walks into the kitchen. "I think I found a new girlfriend."

* * *

_So, I uploaded this like, ten minutes ago, then realized I had Edward talking about Instagram. And ha. INSTAGRAM WASN'T CREATED UNTIL 2010. So, unless I wanted him to be from the future, I had to go in and change that bit. Anyway. *bangs head against wall*_

_Thanks so much for reading, y'all!_

_Kim and Vic are awesome and sweet and make everything better._


	6. around 2PM

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

_Friday, October 2, 2009  
__around 2PM_

"And when I told her I have no idea what Twitter is, she laughed and said I was being humble," Jasper says as we stand in line, waiting to get into the festival.

I chuckle. "Bangs sounds like a keeper."

"Her name is Maria," he corrects me, pulling off his bandana and shoving it in his pocket.

Bella pulls a face. "Am I missing something here? Why does she think you're Twitter famous?"

"That would be my doing," I say, somewhat shocked it worked.

She pushes her sunglasses onto her head, giving me an accusing look. "Why am I not surprised you're behind this?"

I grin, not offering an answer as I reach over and slide her glasses back over her eyes. Her brows pull together as she swats my hand away from her face.

"Yeah. Edward's a dick—" Jasper begins to say.

"Still standing here," I interrupt.

"But Maria gave me her number and we're going to meet up before Kings play later tonight," he adds cheerfully. And holy shit, I think he just smiled.

I open my mouth to comment on the fact that _of course_ Bangs is a Kings fan, but Bella elbows me in my side before I can speak. She shoots me a look, as if she knows what I'm about to say. Right. I'm supposed to keep my mouth shut. I'm supposed to be nicer to Jasper.

She looks away when she's sure I'm not going to tease him, and I stare at her profile long after her eyes leave mine.

Jasper and Garrett start talking about last year's festival. I drown out their conversation, and the line begins moving slowly. I pull my sunglasses from my pocket and slide them on when the sun is no longer behind the clouds. It's hot, but not unbearable.

Bella's phone chimes, and I glance down at her. I'm curious. Maybe even nosy. She must feel my gaze because she looks up at me, frowning.

"What?" she asks.

"You're popular." She looks confused. "Your phone's been going off ever since we left Angela's."

She stares at me curiously. "Oh. I guess."

I hate the way she's acting right now. Like a fucking girl. Like it pains her to act normal.

We're friends.

We fucked.

It's not a big deal.

I know she was mad I showed up late, but I thought we were over that. But we didn't really get to finish our conversation in the kitchen, so maybe she's still pissed. Or maybe she's acting weird toward me because Jasper and Garrett are here. I have no idea. All I do know is that she didn't act this bitchy last time we fucked, and I'm not sure what to say or do.

So, I do what I know best: nothing.

"_Fuck_," Garrett groans, gaining my attention. He digs in his pockets, then opens his wallet. "I think I left my wristband in my glovebox."

"Shit," I mumble, staring at the ACL band secured on my wrist. "What are you gonna do?"

"I guess I have to run back to my car, and meet up with you guys later. I'll text you."

"Yeah, but once we're in the park, phones don't work for shit. Let's meet back at the entrance around four, before Phoenix plays."

"Okay, sounds good." He nods, walking backward. "I'll keep an eye out for y'all."

A few minutes later, the line we're in breaks in two: one for people who need to have their bags checked, and one for those who don't. The workers try to keep people from sneaking in weed and alcohol, but there are ways to get past it. Last year, I hid a flask in my boxer briefs. The year before that, Jasper duct taped a bag of weed and a pipe to the inside of his thigh—his scream could be heard from the porta potty when he had to rip off the tape.

We decided to keep it simple this year with a few pre-rolled joints, which aren't in my boxers or taped to Jasper's leg—they're in Bella's bra.

I can't _not_ laugh at Jasper when he joins the line to have his non-fanny pack searched. He flips me off and calls me a pussy. Which was expected. But a bit unnecessary. It's not like _I'm_ the one carrying a purse. Bella's a chick, and she didn't even bring one.

Bella and I stay in the line we were already in. She's in front of me, head down, still focused on her phone. I smirk at the back of her head, and lightly flick her arm. When she doesn't react, I dip my head and lean closer, mouth right next to her ear.

"Hi," I whisper.

She breathes out a laugh, squirming away as she tells me my beard tickles; if we weren't standing where Jasper could see us, I'd kiss the side of her neck, just to hear her laugh again. But we are. So I don't.

I pull back, my eyes darting to her phone. "So, who keeps texting you, anyway?"

"Angela."

"When's she coming?"

"Not until later. Like, five or something."

Her hair is up, loose strands sticking to the back of her neck. It makes me think of last night, when she was breathing hard and sweating, hair sticking to her forehead. I swallow, gaze moving to her shoulders.

"Jesus, Swan. You're already burning," I tell her, fingers curling around her shoulders as I give them a small squeeze. I keep my hands on her as we shuffle forward in line.

"I always burn," she says, shrugging. "I've accepted my fate."

I gently rub my thumb across the back of her neck before dropping my hands. "Skin cancer is highly dangerous, Bella."

"You know, I think I've heard that somewhere," she deadpans.

I call her a smartass. She calls me a punk. And maybe she's not acting any different. Maybe it was all in my head.

Maybe _I'm_ the one acting like a fucking girl.

Which is definitely not okay.

A few minutes later, after our wristbands have been scanned, we walk through the already crowded park and stand off to the side to wait for Jasper.

"That took forever," he complains once he's made his way over to us.

"Next time you should leave your purse at home," I quip.

"Screw you," he says heatedly, turning to walk away.

I call out to him, reminding him to head back toward the entrance around four if he wants to meet up with Garrett. He doesn't acknowledge me, his stupid neon shirt disappearing into the crowd. That'll be the last time we see him today.

Bella stares up at me and says, "So. We need beer. Unless you have a flask in your boxers, like last year?"

I raise my brows and look down at my crotch. "You're welcome to find out."

She shakes her head, but smiles. "_Such_ a charmer."

"I try."

"I'm sure you do," she mutters, looking away. "Okay. So. Do you want to go check out Bassnectar?"

"That's the DJ, right? Who uses extreme bass?" She nods. "And nectar?" I joke, receiving an eye roll. "I don't know. Doesn't Jasper have Bassnectar on his lineup? I'm not really into electronic music. But if you wanna go, I'll go."

I almost laugh at the look of shock that takes over her face.

"I never thought I'd see the day that Edward Cullen would compromise when it comes to music."

"Come on. Let's not get carried away. This is only because it's you," I admit, smirking. "I wouldn't do it for anyone else." And I really wouldn't.

Her expression softens, just for a second, before she shrugs. "Okay. It might be fun. And the show doesn't start until a little after three, anyway, so that gives us time to make it over there and buy beer."

We slowly make our way across the park. I complain about people walking too slow. We wait in a line too long to buy beer. I complain about it being overpriced, but pay for both of ours. She starts to say something about buying her own, so I tell her she can get the next round.

By the time we make it over to the stage, the show has already started. I point to an area on the side where we should stand. It's not too crowded, which is good, but we need to be surrounded by others so we can smoke without any cops seeing us. I maneuver my way through some groups of people, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Bella's still behind me. I reach back so she'll grab my hand, pulling her along with me.

When we find a good spot, I usher Bella in front of me, since she's shorter. Some of her beer spills onto her hand, and she laughs as she wipes it on my shirt. I don't care, but I pretend like I do.

I stare ahead, watching the DJ stand behind a podium, surrounded by equipment. From here it looks like he's busy turning knobs and dials. But I'm pretty sure I read an article that said when DJs perform live, all they do is hit a play button on their laptop.

Bella turns around, hand on my shoulder as she stands on her toes to tell me something. I can't hear her, so I lean closer. She shouts for me to hold her beer, says she wants to smoke. And then she pulls a joint out from her bra and, since my hands are full, digs in my pocket for a lighter.

We pass the joint between us, sharing with a few people who ask if they can take a hit. It makes its way back into my hand, and I offer Bella the last of it. She nods, and I hold the joint to her mouth, her lips on my fingers as she inhales. I step on the roach, then pick it up and put it in my pocket to get rid of later.

The sun is behind me, burning the back of my neck. I slide my sunglasses into my pocket. When I drain my beer, I take Bella's empty cup from her hand and stack it in mine before setting them in the grass, between my shoes.

I'm not sure how many minutes pass before everything slows down, before my mouth goes dry and my limbs feel heavy.

My bones vibrate with the bass, this constant buzzing. People all around us are dancing, and it's kind of infectious.

I notice Bella swaying, head bobbing in time with the music. I grab her hips, so her ass is against me. I expect her to pull out of my grip, but she doesn't. Her head falls back against my chest, and I swear she's melting into my touch. My hand slides across her stomach, pulling her as close as I can.

We move together, just barely. I try concentrating on the beat, but it keeps changing, and not the way I expect. This is why I hate electronic music—I can't figure it out.

"The shifting tempos are fucking with my head," I complain, speaking directly into her ear.

I can't hear her laugh, but I can feel it. It makes me feel good.

She turns slightly, eyes squinting as she smiles. "What does that even mean?"

My laughter gets lost with hers. "I have no idea what I'm saying."

The song comes to an end just as a new song begins. I hate this music, but I love this feeling. The way her hips roll under my hand. The way her ass moves against my dick. And when she brings her hand up around my neck, and her fingers play with my hair, it's the best.

She's killing me. This girl is killing me.

She turns around and looks up at me. Her mouth opens, like she's about to say something.

I don't give her the chance.

When I try to kiss her this time, she lets me. She doesn't shy away. In fact, I think _she_ might have been the one to kiss _me_. I can't remember who leaned in first, or who initiated it.

Our lips move together, and then our tongues. And I fucking hate PDA. I really do. But right now, this is all I can think to do. All I can focus on is the way she tugs at my shirt and slows the kiss, like she's going to pull away, but she doesn't.

I hate the sudden loss of sound as the music stops, but we don't stop kissing. Not until I hear someone mutter _get a fucking room_.

And that person just happens to be Jasper.

I pull away from Bella, and she looks confused until she notices Jasper standing a few feet away from us.

I have no idea why the first words out of my mouth are, "Uh, it's not what it looks like." But once they're said, I can't take them back.

"Really?" he asks, looking between Bella and me. "Because it kind of looks like you two were about to dry hump in the middle of a music festival. At least have the decency to have sex in a porta potty where people don't have to witness that shit."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you casually used the words _sex_, _porta potty_, and _shit_ in the same sentence," I mutter, glancing over at Bella, whose eyes are locked on me.

"So. You two, huh?" Jasper pushes, grinning wickedly.

I'm not sure what to say. It's not like we have to explain ourselves to Jasper. But I try to, anyway.

"I don't know," I say, smiling wryly. "We're high." It's not a lie.

Bella scoffs out a laugh. "_So_ high," she adds sarcastically.

I swallow, nervously rubbing the back of my neck. She looks pissed. But what the fuck else was I supposed to say to Jasper? That we fucked this morning? And last night? And over the summer? That would just bring more questions that I don't have answers to.

The three of us stand in silence, until Jasper speaks again.

"Are you so high that you thought Edward was Ben?"

I almost want to laugh at this. It's kind of funny. But then I'm reminded that Bella still has Ben, the douche who can't purchase beer by himself.

"No, seriously," Jasper adds. "I really wanna know. One time I took shrooms and thought a giant cactus was a dinosaur."

I can't help but laugh this time, and when I flick my eyes in Bella's direction, she's glaring at me.

"Go fuck yourself," she mutters, pushing past me as she walks away.

"Bella!" I call out. "Come on, he's joking! Look at him. He's an idiot. He's wearing jorts!"

"Harsh, bro."

I pull at my hair in frustration, keeping my eyes on Bella until she disappears.

"That shit was awkward," Jasper sings, slapping my chest. "Hey, is she a good kisser? I've always wondered."

"Shut the fuck up."

He shrugs. "Wanna go grab some food?"

I blow out a breath. "Uh… sure? I guess? That'd be… cool?"

"Why? Are you speaking? Like that?" Jasper mocks me.

I stare blankly, then walk away.

When we're standing in line for pizza, and I'm ignoring Jasper's jokes about catching Bella and me kissing, I pull out my phone to text her.

**Don't be mad**.

And she shouldn't be mad.

Because we're friends.

We fucked.

It's not a big deal.

* * *

_No offense to any fandom members who: DJ in their spare time, listen to electronic music, or wear neon shirts and jorts._

_Okay._

_Thanks to Strictly Robsten for rec'ing this on their blog last week. And thanks to those who voted for this on TLS._

_aaaand thanks to you for reading!_

_Kim & Vic helped tremendously. LIKE. REALLY._


	7. around 4PM

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

_Friday, October 2, 2009  
__around 4PM_

"I don't understand," Jasper starts again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the picnic table.

He's been trying to get answers out of me since Bella stormed off. I really wish he'd just drop it and stop expecting me to sit here and gossip like a fucking girl.

"There are many things you don't understand, Jasper. It's not my job to make sure that you do."

"Seriously, dude. I don't get it. You just… kissed Bella? Because you felt like it?"

Obviously I kissed her because I _felt_ like it. What kind of question is that? I don't answer him right away, though. I take the last bite of my pizza crust, and chew slowly. And then I wash it down with my beer.

"Why does it matter? I told you, we were high," I say, lowering my voice so the people sharing the table with us don't hear. They're caught up in their own conversation, but it still makes me paranoid.

"Yeah, but I've never made out with one of my friends while I was high," he counters loudly.

Two of the girls next to us glance in our direction, then quickly look away. They can't be older than sixteen.

"That's because you don't have any friends," I tell Jasper.

"That's not true," he says to the girls, offering a smirk.

I kick his leg under the table. It's my way of telling him to step away from the underage girls.

He glares as I pull my phone out of my pocket; still no word from Bella. There's a high chance she hasn't received my text because the signal is shit here, but there's also a chance she's ignoring me, which is stupid because I didn't do anything wrong.

"She looked at me, right?" I ask, bouncing my knee. "When she said _go fuck yourself_."

Jasper nods slowly. "Oh, that was totally aimed at you, man."

I pick up my beer from the picnic table, leaving a ring of condensation on the wood. I stare at it. Like it's going to give me answers as to why Bella would be pissed.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I defend myself, gulping the last of my beer. "So what the fuck?"

"Text her."

"I tried."

"Call her."

"I did. It went straight to voicemail."

Jasper regards me for a second, and I can't help but glare under his scrutiny.

"So does this mean she's gonna end things with Ben?" he asks.

"End things with him? It was just a kiss."

But there was also my birthday, when we were sitting on the couch and she kissed me. And then later that night in the shower, with my mouth on her and her fingers tangled in my hair. Then there was last night in my bed, with her beneath me, begging me to fuck her. And there was this morning, with her on top of me, when I was the one doing the begging.

I clear my throat, folding my paper plate in half. "How serious are they, anyway?"

"Fuck if I know."

"Okay."

"Do you want to be her boyfriend or something?"

I tip my head back and laugh, so fucking over this conversation. "Jesus. Why are you so in to this?"

He shrugs. "I'm just curious. I've known you guys since high school, so this is kinda crazy to me. I mean, do you like her or something?"

I swing my legs around the bench, and stand from the table, collecting my trash.

"I'm not doing this with you."

He mimics my movements, standing from the table and gathering his shit. "Not doing what?"

"Acting like a fucking girl. Overthinking shit. Talking about… feelings."

"You're kind of an asshole," he mumbles, following me to the trashcan. "This is why you don't have a girlfriend."

"Unlike you, I don't want a girlfriend."

His sigh is resigned. It seems I finally said the right thing to end this conversation.

"Whatever, man. Are you gonna go see Phoenix?"

"Yeah. You comin'?"

"Nah. I have to head over to the stage where Kings will be playing later. Gotta get a good spot, you know?" His face lights up. "I wanna see the sweat dripping off their faces."

His dedication is a bit concerning.

"Right. I'll see you later at Angela's, then."

"Catch ya on the flipside."

He salutes me, and I roll my eyes before we walk in opposite directions.

I wait for Garrett by the entrance, but can't find him, so I head to Phoenix by myself. I'm too distracted to really pay attention, though. The conversation with Jasper and his juvenile questions are still playing in my head.

I'd smoke to take my mind off everything, but I can't, because Bella has my joints.

So I drink instead.

I catch the last thirty minutes of Coheed and Cambria. I can't help but feel like a creep, standing alone at every show. Everyone else is with their groups of friends, and I'm by myself.

When it's just after seven, I make my way over to see the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I can't get too close to the stage, because there are already a shit-ton of people in the audience.

It's pointless, but I send Bella a text anyway, telling her where I am in the crowd. And to stop being a punk.

Everyone cheers as the band takes the stage. People around me jump up and down, screaming. The drummer starts to play, and Karen O walks out, wearing some ridiculous animal print getup.

They put on a good show, but after a few songs, I'm over it.

Halfway through their performance, I leave the festival.

I make the fifteen minute walk back to Angela's. Once I'm far enough away from the festival and AT&T decides to give me signal, my phone vibrates with new texts. None from Bella. Both are from Garrett, letting me know he was waiting at the entrance around four, and then another asking where I was.

He probably won't receive my text for a while, but I let him know I'll be waiting at Angela's for him to give me a ride back to my place.

Music blares from inside the house, and I walk in without knocking. There are more people here than earlier; none of them look familiar. I doubt Bella left the festival early, too, but as I make my way toward the kitchen, I kind of look for her.

Eric bumps into me. He has a headlamp secured to his head, but the light is off. This is why I've never been able to take this guy seriously.

"Hey, man. Want a beer?" He drinks from his canned Heineken, then offers it to me.

I laugh. "I'm good."

"Smoke?" he asks, pulling a half-crushed joint from his pocket.

"Nah. I have to work later, so…"

"Right on." He nods. "I think someone around here has some Molly if you want."

I decide to wait outside after that.

I sit on the curb, scrubbing a hand over my face before yawning. And then I check my phone for the millionth time.

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, and think about calling a taxi. But since it's ACL weekend and more than half the city is relying on cabs to get them around, my best bet might be waiting here for Garrett.

I hear the front door open, and I turn around. Two girls stumble outside. I look away. I stare down the street, pretending like I'm not paying attention. But I can hear them whispering. Then I hear them laughing.

"Hi," one of them says, then bursts into a giggle.

I turn my head and stare. "Hi."

"What are you doing out here? You should come back inside," the other one says this time. Or maybe it was the same one. I have no idea.

"I'm waiting on someone," I say vaguely.

It's then that I hear loud laughter echoing from down the street. It's dark, so I can't make out who it is. The two girls tell me bye, and head back inside as a group of people come into view.

Someone calls out, "Cullen!"

I stand from the curb, running a hand through my hair.

The laughter continues, and once they're close enough, I see that Bella is with them.

She stares back at me.

A few of the people head straight inside the house, but Bella, Angela, and some guy, who I'm pretty sure is Ben, walk over to me.

It makes me irrationally angry that Bella ditched me to hang out with him. But then I guess he's the one who has a right to be mad. Seeing as how I fucked her this morning.

I don't give any of them a chance to speak.

"Can we talk?" I ask, staring pointedly at Bella.

She stares at me for a second before answering, "Sure."

The guy standing next to her gives her a look, then turns his gaze on me, sizing me up or some shit.

I'd like to see him try something.

Angela places her hands on his shoulders. "Give me a piggyback ride up to the house."

He groans out a laugh, but leans over a bit, allowing her to jump on his back.

I wait until they're inside to speak.

"Your boyfriend gives Angela piggyback rides?"

"That's not my boyfriend," she answers, crossing her arms. "That's Jared."

I can't help but frown. "So Ben _is_ your boyfriend," I accuse.

"You're the one that said it. But no. He's not."

I can't think of anything better to say other than, "Okay."

"Were you waiting for me?" she asks quietly.

"I don't know." I shrug, keeping my eyes on her face. "I mean, Garrett's my ride. He's not here yet."

"Right."

"And you still have my joints."

She pulls the small plastic bag from her bra and tosses it at me. It doesn't come close to hitting me, though, landing halfway between us. I lean over and grab it, carefully slipping it into my back pocket.

"So you were waiting for Garrett and your weed, but not me," she states slowly. "I just want to make sure I'm understanding this correctly."

I hate the way she's staring at me, like she's waiting for me to say something to fuck all of this up.

So I say nothing.

"You're a fucking dick."

And apparently saying nothing can fuck things up, too.

"Sorry, I'm a little confused. Why are you pissed?" I ask heatedly. "You're the one who basically ditched me today."

"Because you're a dick," she repeats.

I shake my head, locking my jaw as I look past her shoulder. "What was your deal earlier? Everything was cool and then—"

Her laugh interrupts me, forcing my gaze back to her face. She's staring at me like I'm an idiot. "I left because you were being an asshole."

I replay everything from earlier. I don't think I was being an asshole. All I remember is that Jasper showed up, made a comment about Ben, a cactus, and a dinosaur, and then Bella stormed off.

"I didn't do anything."

"How do you think your little _it's not what it looks like_ comment made me feel?" she questions, lowering her voice. "And let's not forget _I only hook up with Bella if I'm really high_."

"That's not what I said."

"That's what you implied."

I breathe through my nose. "Don't do this."

"Don't do what? Tell you why I'm upset? You'd rather I ignore you until I'm over it?"

"You're just trying to find shit to be pissed about," I point out.

"Well, you make it so easy," she snarks.

We stare at each other as silence takes over.

This is such bullshit.

I step forward until I'm towering over her. "Tell me what I was supposed to say to Jasper," I say, voice low.

"I don't know."

"Then you can't be mad at me," I insist.

"I'm pretty sure there were a million things you could've said other than_ it's not what it looks like_."

I chuckle. She doesn't.

"I honestly don't know why I said that," I admit.

She stares at my chest. "Well, it kind of made me feel shitty, so…"

Now I do feel like a dick.

"If anyone should be upset here, it's me. You're the one with the boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," she replies, sounding annoyed.

"He's obviously something to you. Enough for Jasper to ask me if you're going to stop seeing him."

"This is… so confusing," she mumbles, blowing out a breath.

"How is it confusing? You like him, right?"

"Sure." She shrugs. "But mostly because he likes _me_. And he makes sure I know it."

The simpleness of her answer catches me off guard.

"And that's all it takes?" I ask, trying not to sound irritated.

"That's not all," she clarifies. "But it helps."

"Get your ass in here, Bell!" Angela calls out from the front door. "Ben wants you to be his beer pong partner!"

Bella turns toward the house and yells, "Play for me!"

The door slams shut.

And I'm pissed.

"He's in there?"

She hesitates before saying, "Yeah. He's only going to the festival on Sunday. He hung out here with Eric—"

I cut her off. "Right." I fist my hair. "You know… I really wanted to hang out with you earlier. I left the festival early because it wasn't fun without you."

"I tried calling you before the Yeah Yeah Yeahs played," she admits quietly. "Your phone went straight to voicemail."

I sigh. "Come with me to work."

She smiles softly. "Shut up. You know I can't."

I tilt my head back, looking up at the sky. I can feel her eyes on me. And there's a split second where I don't give a fuck if she's still mad or if I'm supposed to be pissed. I don't care if that douche comes out here and sees me touching her. I reach for her waist and pull her to me. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, caging her in as I bury my face against her neck. She smells like sweat and weed. Her arms wrap around my middle, and she feels so small compared to me.

I don't want to leave.

I whisper the words before I really think them. "Don't go home with Ben."

And I mean it.

She's too quiet, and I pull back, keeping my hands on her shoulders.

"Why not?" she finally asks when she can see my eyes.

"Because I don't want you to."

"That's not good enough," she whispers.

"Because I'm coming by when I get off work."

Her face is blank. "Where, to my place?"

"Yeah."

She shakes her head. "You get off at six. That's too early."

"So? You don't have to get up. I'll just get into bed with you."

"Edward."

"What?" I ask in exasperation.

She doesn't answer.

Ben supposedly isn't her boyfriend, so I don't know why she's acting like this; trying to make this difficult for me. She says I never tell her what I want, but when I do, she questions me even more. It's fucking frustrating.

"Alright. I get it," I mutter. "You should go. Ben needs you or whatever."

"Don't be like that. Please." She lightly pushes my chest, then slides her hand down, fingers brushing against my stomach. I swallow, hating how much I want her.

I move my hand to her chin, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. She stares up at me, like she's waiting for me to kiss her.

But I don't.

I drop my hand and take a step back.

"I'm gonna go inside now," she breathes out. "Are you gonna wait here for Garrett?"

I clear my throat. "I don't know where the hell he is. It's almost ten thirty."

"Do you want to take my truck back to your place so you can sleep before work?"

I shove my hands into my pockets to keep from touching her again. "How will you get home?"

"I'll make Garrett drive me or something. It's fine."

She runs inside the house to grab her keys, then hands them to me. We walk in silence to her truck.

"I'm still coming by when I get off work," I tell her, leaving the door open as I start the engine.

Her smile is small. "I'm gonna need my truck back, anyway."

I tug on the strap of her dress. "Be good."

She rolls her eyes. "Drive safe."

* * *

Once I'm home, I can't sleep. My mind won't turn off, replaying my fight with Bella.

I get out of bed and shower, deciding to head to the station early.

When I arrive, Riley—the guy whose shift is before mine—is still in the studio. I grab my clipboard off the wall and head down the hall to the lounge. I pour myself a cup of coffee and sit on the couch. I look over the schedule, noticing I'm supposed to give an extra traffic report this weekend, due to ACL.

I finish my coffee, and pour another cup before slipping into the control room just as Riley is wrapping up. Aro, the content producer, tries to do some handshake thing with me. He can never quite get it right.

He talks excitedly about some new Katy Perry single the morning show will be playing on Monday, which means I get to add it to my rotation.

His stare is expectant.

I'm supposed to be happy about Katy Perry.

I want to punch myself in the face.

Apathy wins and I convince myself I don't give a fuck about the music played here, because it's just a job; it's not what I want to do for the rest of my life. This Top 40 shit does nothing for me, but the experience will pay off in the long run.

I blow on my coffee, then smile and nod. Because until a position opens up at the alternative station across town, I'm stuck here, pretending I'm happy about Katy Perry.

I head into the studio once Riley's finished, and set up. I slip on my headphones. I stare at the microphone I hardly speak into unless I'm talking about the nonexistent traffic at three in the morning, or introducing a song. I doubt many people listen, and if they do, it's not like they care what I have to say, anyway.

A little past four, my phone lights up with a text from Bella, which doesn't help with my pity party.

**Hey, just wanted to let you know that I'm staying at Angela's. **

**Why?**

She makes me wait ten minutes before replying.

**Garrett passed out. Jasper left. IDK where he is. Too tired to care. Crashing here.  
**

I'm beyond pissed. Garrett was supposed to give her a ride home. And Jasper? Worthless. Probably off with Bangs, fucking in a porta potty.

**Call a cab.**

I almost offer to pay for it, but her response is quicker this time.**  
**

**It's late.  
**

**Okay.**

The texts stop after that. I've basically given up and convinced myself she's with Ben. I know she has no reason to lie, but a small part of me wonders if she is.

A bigger part of me wonders if they're fucking on Angela's couch right now.

I grind my teeth at the thought. I kind of hate her for pulling this shit. But none of this is her fault. Or maybe it is all her fault. I don't know who I should be pissed at, though—myself or her.

It's all so fucked.

I'm too distracted with all of this bullshit and end up playing the same song twice within ten minutes.

During a commercial break, Aro tells me to wake the hell up, and suggests I either snort a line or grab some coffee. I'm pretty sure he was joking about the coke, but I can't be too sure. He's always so _on_, I wouldn't be surprised if he were coked out 24/7.

I grab another shitty cup of coffee and switch off my phone, because I don't need any more distractions.

And Bella is definitely a distraction.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_

_Kim and Vic... you know._


	8. around 6AM

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

_Saturday, October 3, 2009  
__around 6AM__  
_

The sky is still dark by the time I leave work.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and turn it on as I walk down the hill to where I always park. For a split second, panic washes over me when I don't see my car in the parking lot. And then I spot Bella's truck and realize I'm an idiot.

I climb into the cab and start the engine, letting it run as I check my text messages.

All three are from Jasper.

**Alice hates me the world hates me i hate me  
**

**wuts that taco place we ate at last week**

**txtmeback or i'll piss in ur bed**

I can't find the energy to question what the hell he's going on about, but if he pissed in my bed, I'm putting an ad out for a new roommate. One that doesn't listen to DMB or wear fanny packs.

I toss my phone beside me on the seat, then drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I decide what to do now.

I could go home. Sleep. But I have Bella's truck, which I'm sure she'll need at some point today. And if I'm being honest, the skeptical—maybe even a little jealous—side of me wants to make sure she's where she said she'd be.

I drive to Angela's in a daze. I park along the curb in front of her house and jump out of the truck, not surprised to see the yard is a wreck. There are empty beer cans littering the grass and a garden hose lying in the driveway. The garage is open, and as I walk closer, I can see someone's sleeping on the pool table.

The front door is locked when I try to open it. I knock until some girl, who I'm pretty sure is one of Angela's roommates, answers the door.

"Fucking what?" she asks, eyes half open.

I should apologize for dropping by so early, but I don't.

"Is Bella here?"

She yawns. "Who?"

This is pointless. "Can I come in?" I ask.

She lets me in, shutting the door behind me before shuffling down the hall. She leaves me standing here, no questions asked.

I head into the living room, careful not to step on the people sleeping on the floor. One guy's sitting up against the wall, head dropped and eyes closed. And Bella's lying on the couch on her stomach, the side of her face pressed into a pillow. She's not covered by a blanket. Her dress is kind of bunched up around her waist, and I can see the curve of her ass. I'm torn between covering her and staring a little longer.

I sit on the end of couch, next to Bella's feet. I gently grab her calf, running my hand up the back of her thigh. My thumb grazes just below her ass. She shifts when I pull her dress down a little, but doesn't wake up.

"Bella," I whisper, giving her a small shake.

She release a soft groan. I lightly run my fingers up and down her back until she opens her eyes.

Her voice is hoarse when she asks, "What are you doing here?"

"I figured you'd need your truck."

"Oh yeah. Thanks." With a yawn, she moves to lie on her back. Her eyes close, and she reaches blindly until she finds my arm, tugging on my sleeve. "I'm going to die if I don't go to sleep."

"Me too." I tangle my fingers in her hair, rubbing small circles against her temple with my thumb. "Come home with me."

"Okay. Carry me."

My laugh is weak. "Bella."

"I'm so tired," she whines as I move to stand.

"_You're_ tired? I haven't even slept yet."

She slowly sits up. Her hair is a fucking mess and the strap of her dress is hanging off her sunburned shoulder. I grin at her sleepy face.

"You're a wreck," I say, grabbing her boots from the floor and handing them to her. She pulls them on with a scowl.

"Rude," she croaks.

The sun's starting to rise as I drive to my place. She's lying back against the bench seat, her boots on the floorboard and her feet in my lap. I keep glancing over, expecting to find her asleep. But her eyes are always open, either staring at the ceiling or watching me.

"I listened to the show for a bit. Good job on the traffic reports," she teases.

"You listened?" My hours are so shitty, it's always weird hearing that people I know sometimes hear me on the radio.

"Angela turned on the radio around three. She tried calling in, but kept dialing the number wrong. She wanted you to play Taylor Swift."

I keep one hand on the wheel, the other on her foot. She squirms under my touch. I smile at her, then look back at the road.

"How was the rest of the night?"

"It was good," she says vaguely.

I want to ask her more. Like if she hung out with Ben. If they won beer pong. If he kissed her. Made her laugh. But I'm too tired, so I keep my mouth shut.

I glance in the rearview mirror as I merge onto the highway.

Her foot taps against my hand. "Let's go to my place instead."

"Yeah?"

"I want to sleep in a real bed, as opposed to your shitty mattress on the floor."

"Hey," I scold. "That's only because Jasper was jumping on my bed and broke the frame. I refuse to buy a new one until he gives me the money for it."

She scoffs. "You know that's never going to happen."

We fall into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive.

I park the truck, then groggily following her into the apartment. It's quiet and dark inside. Her roommate, Rose, spends most of her time at her boyfriend's place. I don't know why we don't hang out here more. It's nicer, doesn't smell like stale beer, and Jasper's never here.

I follow her into her room. She keeps the light off as she strips out of her clothes, only pulling on a tiny pair of boyshorts, no shirt. I stare at her chest as I unbutton my jeans and pull my shirt over my head, pinching her side before she disappears into the bathroom.

I climb under her blanket and wait for her. She slides in next to me. I roll onto my side so we're facing each other. We both yawn at the same time, which makes us laugh.

My arm rests over her hip. She scoots closer, her tits pressed against my chest and her head tucked beneath my chin. It's easy and comfortable and still so new, but feels familiar.

I like being with her like this.

"Are you still mad at me?" I mumble.

"You wouldn't be here right now if I were," she whispers back.

I fall asleep then, and don't wake up until Bella forces me out of bed because she's hungry. She's already dressed and ready to go, so I don't have a chance to convince her to stay in bed, which I'm not too happy about.

We stop by my place first so I can take a quick shower and change clothes. Jasper's not home, which I'm thankful for. I don't feel like listening to his shit right now.

We take my car to Mugshots and sit in our usual booth. We order a pitcher of PBR, and the two dollar cheeseburgers. They're not that good, but they're cheap. We eat fast so we can make the Grizzly Bear show at one.

Bella sits back against the booth and complains, "I'm too full. Don't let me put anything else in my mouth."

"I'm going to refrain from making any obvious jokes," I say, stealing her fries. "Too easy."

"How kind of you," she laughs, tearing apart her napkin. "Things got kind of out of control last night at Angela's."

I chew slowly. "I thought you were over that."

"What?" Her eyebrows raise. "Oh. I'm not talking about our fight," she laughs. "I meant the party. The cops showed up after you left."

"Oh. Shit."

"Yeah. Angela's not really doing a big thing today. I think just a few of us are going over after the festival to wind down, if you want to hang out before you go to work."

"Will Ben be there again?" I have to ask.

"I doubt it."

"Will it be weird if he is?"

"I don't know." I watch as she nervously fidgets with the strap of her bra, tucking it under the material of her tank top. "But I want to hang out with you."

I smirk at her. "I always want to hang out with you. Ready to go?" I ask, pulling out my wallet and tossing a few bills on the table. She gives me a look. "What?"

"It's my turn to pay," she points out.

I reach for my money before she can grab it, and secure half of it under my plate. "It's not a big deal. Seriously. The check wasn't even twenty bucks."

"I'll buy beer at ACL," she mutters, sipping her water as I stand up, stretching.

I look around the bar. There are more people here than usual, especially for this hour. A couple stumble out of the photo booth, grabbing their strip of photos before walking away.

"Hey. You wanna go take a few pictures?" I ask, nodding toward the booth.

"What?" Her nose scrunches, but she's smiling. "No. You hate that thing."

I scoff. "I never said that."

"Edward. You say that like, every time we're here."

"Stop being difficult. You're always trying to get me to go in there. "

She rolls her eyes as I grab her hand, pulling her behind me as we walk across the bar.

"This is stupid," she insists.

"No it's not. You love it."

I push the curtain aside, sitting my ass down on the hard seat. There's not room for both of us, so I pull her into my lap.

"How does my hair look?" I joke.

She turns her head toward me, laughing. Her breath is on my face and her fingers are in my hair as she messes it up. I don't have to lean in too far to press my lips to hers. And then we're kissing. It's too quick, though, with her ending the kiss as I try to deepen it. And I don't know how she does that. I don't think I could be the first one to willingly pull away from her mid-kiss.

"So, it takes four photos," she reads off. "We need a dollar."

"Shit. My wallet. I'm sitting on it," I realize.

"No, no, no. Here." She reaches over and pulls her wallet out of her bag, slipping quarters into the slot.

"Ready?" I ask, giving her a small shake.

Our image appears on the screen in front of us.

We stare at it, unsure of what to do. I watch her on the screen as she talks.

"Wait, what face should we make?" she asks.

Before she can finish her sentence, it takes our photo.

"Oh, shit," I laugh, caught off guard.

Her arm wraps around my neck, and she faces me, laughing.

It takes our photo again.

I lean in to kiss her.

Another photo.

"One more," she breathes out. "Make a funny face."

I grin at her as she sticks out her tongue.

The last photo is taken.

I give her thigh a light slap, and she pushes the curtain out of the way as she steps out.

"Wasn't that fun?" she asks, looking up at me as we wait for our photos to print.

I shrug, playing it off. "Eh."

"Oh, shut up. It was your idea!"

I chuckle, pulling her against my side.

The strip of photos dispense. We laugh at the first photo of us both staring blankly at the camera.

"We look like morons," I comment.

"You're not even making a funny face," she says, pointing to the last picture. "And I'm just sitting there looking like an idiot."

My eyes focus on our black and white faces. Her head is tilted to the side, eyes slightly crossed as she sticks out her tongue.

And I'm just sitting there staring at her.

* * *

I park my car at Angela's, but we don't bother going inside. I really want to smoke, especially since I'm saving the one joint I brought with us for Ghostland Observatory later. But if we go in, then we might be stuck with whoever is in there for the rest of the day, and I'm selfish. I like when it's just Bella and me.

We walk to the festival, and it's just after noon when we're finally inside the park. The line to get in doesn't take nearly as long today, especially without Jasper and his fanny pack.

I shake my head when Bella pays for our beer, but for whatever reason, it's a thing to her now. So I don't stop her. I kiss her shoulder instead and thank her.

We head over to the stage to wait for Grizzly Bear to play. The sun isn't as intense today, which is nice. We don't walk past the area where people are lounging in chairs. We find a spot and sit in the grass, too lazy to fight our way through the crowd.

Bella lies back against the grass, bending her knees. I stare at her legs. Those tiny shorts. The way her back slightly arches when she yawns. I stifle a groan. Her head lolls to the side, eyes hidden behind glasses. But I know she's looking at me.

"What?" she asks.

I shake my head, drinking my beer instead of answering her. She doesn't need to know the affect she has on me.

"We should see Bon Iver later," she suggests, moving to sit up.

"They're overrated," I reply, bored. "The worship Justin Vernon receives from Pitchfork and other hipster music blogs is ridiculous."

"You don't understand his music. Admit it. It's okay, Edward."

"What's there to understand? His songs are an incoherent mess." I don't really care either way for Bon Iver, but I like seeing Bella get worked up. It's cute and entertaining the way she breathes through her nose, shoves her glasses on top of her head, and narrows her eyes at me.

"He's a genius. His music evokes emotion in me that I didn't realize I possessed."

I grin. "That's deep. Are you drunk?"

She flips me off. Which means she's drunk.

We end up seeing Bon Iver, anyway. Because Bella wants to.

More beer is consumed. We catch the last twenty minutes of The Decemberists, then grab some food before heading over to Ghostland, whose show is by far one of the best performances I've seen live. We smoke the joint, not sharing with anyone around us this time. We kiss a few times, too, and don't get interrupted by Jasper.

We lazily walk back to Angela's when the festival ends. It's almost ten by the time we're heading into the house. There aren't many people here, which is a good thing. And there's no mention of Ben coming around, which is an even better thing.

Jasper and Garrett show up about twenty minutes later. Jasper has tears in his eyes as he recalls the DMB experience he had tonight. I hide in the kitchen so I won't have to endure listening to him, and Bella and Angela follow me.

A few minutes later some guy I don't know walks into the kitchen. He has dark blonde hair and a tattoo on his forearm. He doesn't acknowledge me as he sits at the table with us, in the empty chair next to Bella. She's caught up in a conversation with Angela, not noticing his presence. I sip my beer, anger flaring inside of me as he brushes Bella's knee with his finger, catching her attention.

I clear my throat as she turns, smile slightly faltering when she faces him.

"Ben." She pauses. "Hey."

His smile is too wide, and he leans closer to her. "I woke up this morning and you were gone."

Bella's eyes flick in my direction, then back to Ben. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't want to wake you," she explains.

She fucking lied.

She text me last night saying she was going to stay here, at Angela's. And she _was_ here this morning when I stopped by, but where was she before that? Obviously with this douche, who still uses mousse or some shit to style his hair.

I shouldn't care that Bella lied to me. It shouldn't matter to me that she actually likes this guy, with hair that looks both shiny _and_ crunchy. But it does matter. And I do care.

I'd told myself we were just friends and it wasn't a big deal that we fucked, but the feeling in my chest makes me think that maybe it is a big deal.

I decide I have to get out of here before I say or do something stupid.

I'm about to stand from the table just as Ben says, "It's cool. I was worried when I saw the couch was empty." He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. "I have no idea how I slept sitting up. My neck isn't too happy with me today."

Right.

I'm an idiot.

Now that I think about it, I do remember seeing a guy sitting up against the wall, sleeping. So Bella wasn't with him. Not really.

Angela laughs. "You didn't have to sleep sitting up. I offered y'all my bed."

"Bella was pretty drunk," he laughs with Angela. "I tried waking her up, but she was already passed out on the couch."

Bella's eyes cut to mine. I hope she can't read my expression. I hope it's not obvious I want to deck this fucker, even though he hasn't done anything wrong. That's the fucked up part about this. Bella's the one lying to him. She had sex with me, hung out with me all day, and he's none the wiser. But I still have this irrational urge to punch him. Especially when he starts rubbing his hand up and down her thigh.

"Where'd you go, anyway?" he asks her.

Bella keeps her eyes on me as she speaks. "My friend Edward borrowed my truck last night so he could go home before work, then brought it back early this morning. And, yeah…" she trails off.

He follows her gaze, turning to look at me. I stare him down. No one speaks for a good ten seconds, this awkward tension suddenly present. And maybe he isn't that stupid after all.

"Ben, this is Edward," Bella awkwardly introduces. "We've been friends since sophomore year in high school."

He nods his head at me before reaching out a hand. "Hey, man. Sup?"

_What a dick.  
_

I shake his hand because I don't want to be rude. His grip isn't as hard as mine. I smile smugly.

Recognition flickers across his face. "Oh. You're the friend who works for Kiss FM, right?" he questions.

I chug the rest of my beer. "Yep," I answer flippantly. I can feel Bella's eyes on me, but I refuse to look at her.

He fights a smile. "Isn't that a Top-40 station?"

I stare blankly. "Yeah, it is. Good job."

"I don't care what anyone says," Angela interrupts. "I fucking love me some Top-40 music. It's popular for a reason: it's catchy and makes people feel good."

"Have I heard you on-air before?" Ben asks, leaning back and resting his arm along the back of Bella's chair.

"I have no idea," I reply dryly. _How the hell would I know_? "I'm on-air between two and six in the morning, so probably not."

"I didn't realize people still listened to the radio," he chuckles, and I hate everything about this asshole. "Nah, I'm kidding, man."

I force a laugh to match his. "Right. Good one."

Angela stands. "Anyone wanna go smoke before we play Jenga?"

"I shouldn't. Gotta work later," I mutter.

"I'm good," Bella replies.

"More for us," Ben laughs, following behind Angela.

It's silent between Bella and me until they're gone.

"Hey," she whispers. "Sorry. That was… weird."

I snort. "_That_ guy? Really, Bella?"

"He's not that bad, I swear."

"He's a dick."

She averts her gaze and focuses on the table, then grabs our empty bottles. I sigh, and when she stands from her chair, I reach over and grab her wrist before she can walk away.

She looks down at me, pulling a face.

"Bella."

"What?"

I gently pull her to stand between my knees. I take the empty bottles from her hands and set them back on the table.

"What?" she asks again, quieter this time. "You're always saying my name and looking at me like that, but you never say anything."

One corner of my mouth lifts. "Let's get out of here," I suggest, rubbing my hands up and down the back of her thighs. "Unless you'd rather stay here with Ben?"

She doesn't say anything, just stares down at me. I grab her waist, making her sit in my lap.

"If I don't say anything it's because I don't know what to say," I murmur against her neck, kissing the spot below her ear. "What should I say to get you to come with me?"

She shudders, leaning into my touch.

"Hey, do you know if―"

Ben's voice fills the kitchen, his sentence abruptly ending when he sees Bella in my lap, my face buried in her neck.

Bella frantically stands.

"Oh," he says, eyes bouncing between the two of us. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she says quickly, walking toward him. "I was just about to go grab Jenga. Help me find it?"

She ushers him out of the kitchen before another word is spoken. I stay put, dropping my head back and groaning in frustration.

I toss our bottles in the recycling with more force than necessary, then switch from beer to water, needing to sober up before work. I find Garrett, Jasper, Eric, and some girl sitting in the living room.

"Cullen, you pussy. We thought you left!" Garrett exclaims as I plop down next to him on the couch.

"Uh. Nope."

Angela walks in and dumps the container of Jenga blocks on the makeshift coffee table: a glass table top resting on cinder blocks.

I try not to question where Bella and Ben are.

"I got this," Jasper says, shooing Angela away as he stacks the blocks on top of one another, building a small tower.

Bella and Ben appear just as Jasper's finishing up. Bella's expression is calm, almost impassive. She sits on the floor, avoiding my gaze, and Ben sits in the chair opposite the couch.

Angela starts Jenga, pulling out a block near the bottom.

"So this is drunk Jenga," she explains. "You have to do what the block says. Some are truths, some are dares. This one says to take a shot…" She grabs the bottle of whiskey next to Eric, and takes a long gulp.

"This is stupid," Garrett complains.

"No, dude," Jasper disagrees. "It's the best game ever. Me next." He's too excited as he pulls out a block and the entire thing falls apart.

Everyone bursts into laughter. He scowls as he rebuilds it. Eric goes next. His block says to act out a sex position. I have no idea why, but Jasper offers to help him out. I nearly piss my pants when they act out reverse cowgirl, with Jasper on top. It's by far the most disturbing thing I've seen all day.

When it's my turn, I poke at a few blocks, finding one that's an easy target.

"Kill, fuck, or marry the person across from you," I read aloud.

I look up, locking eyes with Bella, who's the only one who could be considered sitting across from me.

"What's it gonna be, Cullen?" Garrett goads, laughing. "Kill, fuck, or marry Swan?"

The corner of my mouth lifts, then, "Well, I've already done one of those things with her, so…"

Garrett and Eric immediately burst into laughter. They probably think I'm joking.

"Wait. You guys fucked?" Jasper asks bluntly. "I thought y'all only made out?"

I don't say anything as Bella storms out the front door.

_Fuck_.

Angela stands, shooting me a glare. "Why would you say that?"

I want to say I don't know, but I do.

I know exactly why I said it.

I said it for the laughter that erupted from the guys.

I said it for the confused look on Ben's face.

And I said it because I'm an asshole. I'm a jealous asshole, and wanted to let Ben know that Bella's off limits.

"Wait," I say, looking at Angela. "Let me talk to her."

When I get outside, I see Bella walking down the street. I jog to catch up.

"Bella. Stop," I call out, just before I reach her.

She doesn't, though, arms crossed over her chest as she continues to walk.

"Hey. Talk to me." I move to stand in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders.

She jerks out of my grip. "Why would I want to talk to you, Edward?"

With a frustrated sigh, I drop my hands. "Look. I wasn't trying to piss you off."

"You don't _try_ to upset me, yet you do," she quips. "It's getting old."

"It was a joke. Come on."

"Right. This whole thing is a joke to you."

My eyebrows pull together. "What?"

"All of this." She gestures between the two of us. "You and me. What the fuck was I thinking letting this happen?"

"I don't—"

"Admit it. The only reason you started showing any interest in me is because you were jealous of Ben. Which makes you an asshole. Which makes me an idiot." She pauses, then adds, "Which makes this whole situation fucked up."

I let her words sink in for a minute, because I had no idea she was thinking any of this. And how would I? She never mentioned anything until now.

"What the hell are you talking about? We hooked up over summer, before you met Ben. What does any of this have to do with him?"

"Exactly!" she yells, eyes wide. "We hooked up four months ago and nothing else happened after that night. Not until two nights ago, after I told you about Ben. Then you were suddenly interested in me."

I shake my head, because she has it all wrong. "Nothing happened after the first time we had sex because you started acting weird, and—"

"I started acting weird because I like you, Edward. And you acted like nothing happened, so _I_ acted like nothing happened. _You_ made things weird, not me."

"What do you mean you like me?" I ask, narrowing my eyes in confusion.

"You're so stupid," she mumbles, shaking her head. "I like you. It's pretty simple to figure out."

I open and close my mouth a few times before I say anything. "Bella, I didn't know."

"How was it not obvious? Why do you think I was having sex with you?"

"I mean, I knew you liked that part, but… I didn't know."

It's true. I had no idea she had feelings for me. I feel like a fucking idiot for not realizing it on my own, but how was I supposed to know? I was under the impression she wanted to date Ben.

I'm about to tell her this, when a car drives down the street, its headlights shining brightly. I squint against the light, ushering Bella closer to the curb as it passes us.

"What did you think this was, Edward?" she asks quietly.

I search her face, so expectant. I try to think of something that won't piss her off, but I know no matter what I say, this conversation isn't going to be easy. So I go with the truth.

"I don't know what I thought this was. I mean, we're friends, and things just started two days ago. There wasn't really time to think about any of this, you know?"

Her laugh is humorless. "So, basically you thought I wanted to date Ben while having casual sex with you?"

"Honestly?" I hesitate, running a hand over my mouth. "Yeah. I guess so."

Her lips purse, then, "Okay. Well, I'm sorry I complicated things, seeing as how it's been _just_ sex to you."

She turns to walk back to the house. I grab her by the elbow, stopping her.

"That's not what I'm saying. Jesus, Bella. Stop putting words into my mouth."

"Maybe if you said something, _anything_, I wouldn't have to!"

There are so many things I want to say to her right now, but I don't know where to start. She expects so much. She expects me to have answers to questions I didn't even know existed until a few minutes ago, which is so fucking unfair.

The only thing I do know is that she deserves so much. She puts up with so much of my shit, and she deserves so much better than _me_.

Her sniffles bring me out of my thoughts, and I watch her swipe a finger under her eye. "Perfect. I'm crying. I'm the girl who hooks up with her best friend she has feelings for, then cries because he doesn't feel the same way."

I fist my hair. "Shit. Bella, don't cry."

"What else am I supposed to do? You humiliated me in there." She shakes her head, her lips trembling. "And Ben walked in and saw us…" she trails off. "I feel like an idiot, and it was all for nothing, you know?"

I pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her tightly.

After a minute, I murmur into her hair, "I wasn't trying to humiliate you. I swear."

I would never purposely do that. I care about her more than she realizes.

Her face is hidden in my shirt as she mumbles, "Let me go."

I gently squeeze the back of her neck. "Bella, come on."

"No. I don't want to see you right now." She pulls away, wiping her eyes. "I need to talk to Ben. I feel like a bitch."

"Do you want me to wait for you? I can give you a ride home. Or you can come to my place, we can talk," I offer, not wanting to say bye just yet; not wanting to end things this way.

"No." She clears her throat. "I need to actually sleep tonight. I perform tomorrow, remember?"

Like I could forget.

"I remember," I tell her.

"You don't have to come. I know you'll be tired and stuff, and we play at eleven thirty, so―"

"Bella," I say, grabbing her by the shoulders, ducking my head to meet her eyes. "I'll be there."

"Okay." She looks past me. "Don't feel obligated."

"I don't… fuck," I breathe out. "I don't feel obligated when it comes to you. Don't you get that?"

She stares at me, searching my face. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I let her go, watching as she walks away.

"Bella!" I call out when she reaches the driveway. She stops in place, but doesn't turn around. "I'm sorry, okay?"

She wordlessly disappears into the house.

I stand here, unsure of how to fix this.

But I know that I need to. And more than that―I know that I want to.

I just don't know how.

* * *

_If you're having girl problems I feel bad for you, son.  
__I got 99 problems but a―__  
_

_I've been singing that song all morning. It felt appropriate to add it to the AN._

_Thank you so much reading. Y'all are the best._

_I couldn't do this without Kim and Vic. I just couldn't._

_P.S. it hurt me to write that stuff about Bon Iver. my love for Justin Vernon is unreal._


	9. around 11PM

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

_Quick recap: Edward is a clueless motherfucker. That basically sums up the last 8 chapters._

* * *

_Saturday, October 3, 2009  
__around 11PM_

Instead of following Bella inside the house, I head over to my car.

Hanging out at Angela's is no longer an option, especially since Ben is still here. I have a feeling he wouldn't be too happy to see me after the comment I made, and I'm not really in the mood to deal with a jealous dickhead right now.

I climb into my car, slam the door with more force than necessary, and start the engine. Jasper runs outside, catching me before I drive off. He frantically knocks on the window, and I shoot him a glare before rolling it down.

"Jesus, what do you want?" I snap.

"Bella said you're leaving."

"No. I'm not leaving. I'm just sitting in my car with the engine running," I say dryly.

"Gimme a ride?" He walks around the front of the car before I have a chance to say no.

"Sure," I mutter as he settles into the passenger seat. "By all means. Get in."

He pauses before putting on his seatbelt. "You're going home, right?"

"Right." I nod, glancing at the house once more before shifting into gear.

"Wanna drop me off at Alice's?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because. You're trying too hard. Maybe if you acted like you weren't so into her, she'd consider taking you back."

He blows out a breath. "Dude. You honestly think I should be taking advice from you?"

Fair enough.

"I'm still not driving you there. She lives almost half an hour away and I gotta go to work soon."

Muttering a _whatever_, he grabs the cord that's connected to my stereo and plugs it into his phone to play music.

A few seconds later, Kings of Leon is blaring from the speakers. It's his way of torturing me for not driving him to Alice's. I'd say something, but I'm too apathetic to talk shit to him right now. And maybe I deserve this sick punishment. So I endure listening to _Use Somebody_ five times in a row before we're home.

Since I'm too keyed up to try to sleep right away, I don't decline when Jasper asks me if I want to smoke.

I sink into the couch, watching as he breaks up the weed, separating seeds and stems on one of his old textbooks. Global Politics. I laugh to myself. I'm pretty sure he failed that class. Twice.

"You made it to the Ghostland show, yeah?" he asks absently, keeping his eyes on the task in front of him.

"Yep."

"How was it?"

"Awesome."

Jasper disappears and returns with his bong. He sits next to me on the couch, placing it between his knees. While he packs the bowl, I grab my phone and open my texts, tapping Bella's name. My thumb hovers over the keyboard, but I type nothing because I don't even know what I can say at this point.

The expression she wore after I said that shit in front of everyone lingers in my mind. She was obviously hurt. And so fucking sad. And I hate that I was the one who made her look that way; hate that I let my jealousy get the best of me. Because that's all it was―me being jealous over whatever she has with Ben. I'm not sure why I tried denying that to myself when it was so fucking clear.

"Let's smoke this bitch," Jasper says, sliding the bowl into the bong and producing a lighter from his pocket.

With work in less than three hours, I probably shouldn't smoke. But my knee is bouncing and my mind is filled with Bella. I definitely need to chill the fuck out. So I smoke until my head is foggy and my throat burns and my limbs are lazy.

When the bowl is cashed and we've watched enough random videos on YouTube, we find ourselves in the kitchen. Jasper searches the fridge, and I grab a bag of chips, hopping onto the counter. He whines and groans about there not being any food in the fridge, but a second later he pulls out a paper container of Chinese food and the last slice of pizza.

I shove some chips into my mouth. "You think she hates me?"

"Bella?" he asks, placing his food in the microwave. "Nah. She could never hate you."

"She was pretty pissed," I remind him.

"Did you say you were sorry?"

"Yeah. But I feel like… I don't know. Like it wasn't enough."

"If you said you're sorry and you meant it, she'll get over it."

And how the fuck can he be so sure?

My face must mirror my thoughts because he adds, "She's had a thing for you for a while, dude, therefore _she'll get over it._"

He busies himself with his phone, and we fall into silence. I let his words sink in. I listen to the low humming buzz of the microwave and stare at the food as it rotates.

"How do you know she's had a thing for me?" I question as the microwave _dings_.

He laughs at me. "Okay, without the knowledge that you two fucked or whatever, it's pretty fucking obvious you two are like, into each other. Y'all hang out alone all the time."

I hate that he thinks he knows shit about any of this. "Friends can hang out alone."

"Right. But I don't look at any of my _friends_ the way you look at her."

I don't say anything after that. Because what the hell can I say? I don't want to tell him he's right. That's the last thing I want to do.

He must find my silence amusing because he snorts out a laugh. "Shit, man. How did you not know Bella liked you?"

I have no fucking clue.

I spill everything to him, then. It's like once I open my mouth, I can't stop the words. I tell him about Bella and I hooking up the night of my birthday, after we all left the karaoke bar. I tell him about the other night in my room, and the next morning, but keep the details vague. He doesn't need to know how good she made me feel or what her tits look like.

Eventually the weed starts talking, because I tell him about her smile, like he's never seen it before. I go on about how she laughs at everything I say, and that I like the way she makes me feel as though I'm the funniest person ever.

I tell him she's my best friend. He says he knows. I almost tell him that I'm without a doubt going to fuck things up if I try to be _more_ than her friend, but I stop myself. I don't need him to confirm that he knows that, too.

Jasper finishes his food and sets his plate in the sink. I take that as my cue to shut up.

"How did you manage to fuck things up so badly? I mean, you obviously like her, too."

And it sounds so weird. It's so simple and he makes it sound so easy. Like this is something I should've realized all along. And now that I think about it, I probably _should_ have realized. But for the longest time, Bella was my best friend. That's all I could see her as. I don't know when I started to see her as something else, something more. Maybe the change was so gradual that I hardly noticed. Maybe I needed the threat of her being with someone to get my head out of my ass.

"Yeah. I like her," I admit, swallowing. "So what do I do now? Just sit around and wait for her to talk to me?"

"Your next move definitely needs to involve a grand gesture," Jasper explains, like any of that means shit to me.

I fist my hair, trying not to become agitated. "Just tell me what I'm supposed to do to fix this."

I can't believe I'm asking him for help. He's Jasper, douchebag extraordinaire. He's terrible with girls. His ideas of impressing the opposite sex has involved microwaved burritos, balloon animals, and knowing all the words to Nsync songs.

"I refuse to sing," I quickly say, shaking my head. "Out of the question."

He nods in understanding. "Dude. Hire one of those planes that have a banner attached to it. It can say like, I love you or some shit. You can schedule it to fly in the middle of her show tomorrow."

That might be the worst thing I've ever heard.

"Um…" I clear my throat. "I was thinking something a little less expensive."

"Right, right. What about a hot-air balloon? I think I saw a Groupon for half off."

"Less extravagant."

"Well, the Empire State Building is in New York, but—"

"You know what," I interrupt, hopping off the counter, "I think I can figure something out."

"Alright, man. Good luck with whatever you do." I turn to leave, but then he adds, "Whatever you do, just make sure you mean it. It's gotta come from the heart."

What a sentimental fucker. But he has a point.

"Thanks for… stuff," I mumble awkwardly. "You know."

"It ain't no thang." He brushes his shoulder off five times too many. "Just doing my job as your bro."

I don't want to give him too much credit, so I laugh and add, "You still have shit taste in music, though."

With an hour left until I have to go to work, I decide a quick shower will be good to wake me up and wash off the weed stench that's clinging to me. I head to my room, kicking off my shoes and emptying the pockets of my jeans, tossing shit onto the mattress. Keys, wallet, phone, and the strip of black and white photos Bella and I took earlier.

I pick up the paper, the bottom corner bent from being in my pocket all day. I fold it back, trying to fix it.

My eyes roam over our faces. Bella's sitting there, and she's so fucking pretty. Even when she's making that stupid expression in the last photo. And it's almost weird seeing us like this. Seeing us kissing and laughing. Seeing the way I stare at her.

I leave the room and think of Bella. I take a shower and think of Bella. I grip and stroke my dick and think of Bella, and I groan out a _fuuuuck_ and think of Bella.

With my head dropped, hot water streams down my shoulders and back. I stand there, letting my tension wash down the drain and steam fill the bathroom.

_How did I not fucking know_?

How did I not realize I'm so caught up in this girl?

And why did I think it'd be okay to treat her like she was just another random hookup? Just another girl? Because she's not. She never has been.

Questions fill my mind, but stay unanswered. Because I have no fucking clue about any of this. I don't know how to get someone I like to forgive me, because I've never had to try before. I've never cared enough.

The water runs cool so I turn it off. Grabbing a towel from the floor, I half-heartedly dry myself and pull on the jeans and shirt I wore earlier.

Once I'm back in my room, I grab the photos of Bella and me and walk over to desk, opening the top drawer. I move shit around, sorting through pens and other useless crap until I find what I need.

Without another thought, I tack the photos to the the wall.

Because with Bella, I want to try.

She deserves someone who is going to try.

**...**

When I arrive at work an hour later, I'm antsy as fuck.

Jasper's _grand gesture_ talk replays in my head. And I know he's right. I know I need to do something big for Bella to forgive me; need to do something so she knows I'm serious about us.

While driving to the station, I had an idea. It's probably stupid and not doable, since it involves Aro's permission and at least fifteen minutes of on-air time. But sometimes he can be a reasonable guy. I doubt he'll tell me no. There's a small chance he will, though. And then I'm back to square one, with no plan and no Bella.

After practically chugging my second cup of coffee, I decide I have to stop being a pussy.

I head toward the control room, then lightly rap my knuckles on the door before opening it. Aro's sitting in his leather rolling chair, facing the computer. I shut the door behind me, then quietly stand there until he glances over his shoulder.

He nods toward the black leather couch, but I choose to stand. No one sits on that couch. I'm pretty sure he fucked one, or maybe all, of the interns on it.

"What's up?" he asks, spinning his chair around to face me.

"Not much."

He eyes me. "You ready to go on in twenty?"

"Yeah." I lock my jaw. I place my hands on my sides. I take a deep breath. I might puke. _Not_ being a pussy is going to make me sick. Or maybe that's all of the caffeine in my system.

"You good?" Aro asks, half laughing.

I stretch my arms above my head and fake a yawn. I don't know why I'm stalling. This grand gesture shit is stressful as fuck.

Instead of puking I mutter, "I'm good, but this weekend is kicking my ass."

He chuckles and goes back to shuffling through the papers in his hands. "You kids are pussies nowadays. I used to stay up for at least three straight days, and still make it to work without yawning."

This doesn't exactly help with my suspicion of him being a coke addict.

"You're hardcore."

He throws a sideways peace sign up in the air. I thought that sign was designated to only be used by middle schoolers who think they're gangstas, not thirty-something professionals. But Aro just proved me wrong.

"I gotta wrap this shit up before you go on," he tells me, his way of trying to kick me out.

"Yeah. Okay. But, uh, I was wondering if we could talk for a second."

"Shoot."

He's not looking at me, his attention elsewhere, but my palms still go sweaty. "You remember my friend Bella, right?"

"The friend with the legs?"

I frown. "As opposed to my friend without legs?"

"The one with the _nice_ legs," he corrects, looking up to give me a sly smile. "What about her? She ask about me?"

My brows pull together. His reaction stirs something inside of me. It's not the same feeling that was present whenever Ben was mentioned, no. It's not jealousy. I feel protective.

"Uh, no. She didn't ask about you."

He looks bored, turning back to the computer.

"Actually, uh… we're kind of together. And I might've fucked things up with her."

"With Legs?"

"With Bella." I crack my knuckles. "I was wondering if I could do something."

"I'm listening."

**...**

My shift drags on.

If I were a sappy fucker like Jasper, I'd make some on-air declaration that would embarrass both Bella and me.

I'd tell her that her smile is the best thing, but only when she's looking at me. I'd tell her that I don't know how I know her laugh is different when I'm the one making her do it, but it is. It's just a thing you notice after years of being friends. I'd tell her that, when I walk into a party, she's the first person I look for. She's the only person I want to hang out with. All the time. Ever.

I'd tell her that I'm sorry for being such a dick all the time. That I definitely don't deserve her, but that won't keep me from wanting her.

But I can't say those things. It's not me. And honestly, it's not Bella, either.

So I decide to do something that _is_ me. Something I know Bella will appreciate. After I give the traffic report, I don't go to commercial like I normally would.

"We're doing things a little different tonight. My producer was feeling generous and gave me the okay to play a few songs for you guys," I say into the microphone, letting out a low, rehearsed chuckle. "These songs are special to me, and I hope y'all enjoy them."

I mute my mic, and quickly scan the playlist I made for Bella.

Each song is one that plays an important role in our friendship. Each song is one that, whenever we hear it in public or at a party, we always manage to catch each other's eye and smile. If she's listening, she'll know this is for her.

I hit play.

_The Way We Get By _by Spoon was playing the first night we met in Jasper's parents' garage. I was actually sober, but she was high and geeking out. I found it amusing. I also found her to be incredibly hot. Too hot to be Jasper's friend.

The first fight we had was over the Backstreet Boys our Junior year. We got in her car to drive to the movies, and when she turned on her CD player, _I Want It That Way_ blasted through the speakers. She was so fucking embarrassed, claiming one of her friends had been listening to it earlier. But her blush and defensiveness made it obvious, so of course I had to give her shit about it. She made me walk home from the theater. We didn't talk for a week.

I play Van Morrison's _Into The Mystic _after that. It's the song Bella sang at the karaoke bar we all went to for my birthday this year; the night we first hooked up. I remember everything, from the way she smiled at me with her eyes while she sang, to the smirk her lips wore as she straddled me on the couch.

I save her favorite song for last. A couple of years ago at some New Year's Eve party, Bella sheepishly confessed that _Don't Worry Baby_ by The Beach Boys was her favorite song, and that it never fails to make her cry. She was drunk when she admitted this, and made me promise not to tell anyone.

The song ends. Aro throws me a deuce from behind the glass. I go to a commercial break. I pull off my headphones and press the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to keep myself from texting Bella.

It kills me that I don't know if she was listening. And who knows if playing these songs for her will be enough, or if it will change anything between us.

I can't make some sappy confession to her about how I feel. That's not me. My words always come out wrong and tend to make things worse.

But every song was as an apology.

Each lyric was something I can't say.

And I can only hope it was enough.

* * *

_Thaaaaank you for reading and for your patience. I was dealing with some serious family stuff back in May, and my head wasn't in the right place to be writing. And then I moved. And then blah blah blah. Life. But yeah. I like this story, I adore you guys, and I appreciate the love and support more than y'all know. And I'm going to stop being a sap face now. K._

_Special thanks to Twilly and Geekchic for all their help!_

_Let it be known that Kim and Vic are my two favorite people ever._


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